


The Phoenix

by LadyJanus



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 69,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6942946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJanus/pseuds/LadyJanus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kathryn and Chakotay find a way to leave New Earth, and set off in search of <i>Voyager</i>. Together with a new friend, they find family. Sequel to <i>Whispers and Echoes</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Highjacker's Guide to the Galaxy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: If Viacom and the GOP (Gods of Paramount—that is) want this story, they’re welcome to it. 
> 
> Author's Note: Sequel to _Whispers and Echoes_. Like that tome (and everything I write) I can't seem to keep it short. I tried to finish it in time for the Purple Comet Resolutions II contest way back in 2003 or 2004, but didn't manage it. Then I thought it lost on an old computer when that one kicked the bucket, so it was never posted anywhere. I found it a while ago on an old CD back up that’s somehow still working, so I finished the last couple of chapters from my vague memories of how I’d wanted it to go. So if you liked _Whispers and Echoes_ , please, enjoy!

"Any luck?" Kathryn asked as Chakotay beamed on board the shuttle for the night. Pulling off the long, dun-coloured cloak and setting his bag down, he sat down tiredly and accepted the bottle of water from her. She looked at his unfamiliar face and knew his answer before he shook his head. Posing as a Trabe male and a Talaxian female certainly didn't attract any attention, but she'd be glad when they got their own faces back.

 

"No luck in getting a line on a warp core," he explained, getting up and kneeling by their food hamper. He selected one of the pre-cooked dinners and placed it in the warmer for a few seconds. "I did however get the phaser couplings and the young woman I dealt with told me to come back tomorrow and she might have a line on the parts for the shield emitters. Did you get the ODN components?"

 

Kathryn shook her head as she sipped her coffee.   After more than a year stranded on a small planet where _Voyager_ had been forced to abandon them, they were both anxious to start looking for their ship. Two years into their 70-year journey across the galaxy, both she and Chakotay had contracted a virus that the doctor was unable to cure. Something in the atmosphere of the planet on which they'd been infected had kept the illness at bay and to take them from it would have meant their deaths. However, Kathryn's perseverance, even after one of the planet's plasma storms had destroyed a lot of her bioscience research equipment, had eventually led to a cure.

 

 _Nothing like pure Janeway stubbornness_ , she thought ruefully. Since they wouldn't get very far very fast in the shuttle _Voyager_ had left them, they now scoured the near-by Talaxian colony of Teerixi looking for parts with which to salvage an old freighter floating in space not far from the planet they had christened New Earth.

 

"Yes," she replied, "and parts for the environmental systems—air recycling and thermoregulation control. Coupled with what we got last month, we should be able to start bringing those systems on-line using the portable generator. We should also think of installing the cloak first thing when we get back—make the ship disappear. The cloak's power systems are autonomous, so that shouldn't be a problem. Hopefully, the natives will simply think that it was salvaged the old-fashioned way."

 

Kathryn leaned over the back of the pilot's seat to re-engage the shuttle's cloak. Since two people alone in this hostile quadrant of the galaxy would be no match for any enemy, they had developed a variant of a Romulan cloaking device in order to hide their shuttle. They had also created one to cloak their dwelling and greenhouse from any prying eyes that might wander into the New Earth solar system.

 

"Anyway, I think that Okris and Liixin are becoming a little too well known," she said in concern. "I saw that gold-skinned young woman watching me again today in the market place; that's the third day in a row. I haven't seen any others like her, but I'm sure I saw her once before on our second trip here."

 

She saw the worried look that leapt into his eyes, although his alien expression was rather inscrutable. "Actually, she was the one who sold me the phaser couplings" he said, "and told me to come back for the shield emitter parts tomorrow. Her name is Malakier."

 

"Do you think it's a trap?" Kathryn asked quietly.

 

"There's a good chance of that," he replied. "The spot she asked me to meet her in is rather deserted. She wants 500 grams of calcite ore and five lobi crystals—I've given her one crystal as a down payment on the shield parts. Not too expensive considering, but I don't think we should use them anymore; they're attracting too much attention. As far as I can tell, they're not found around here. Too bad, they're easy to replicate."

 

"Well, let's get some sleep and tomorrow morning we'll scout the meeting place for a safe place to set down close by," she said as they moved to the back of the craft. "I'll stay inside and keep a transporter lock on you during the meeting."

 

Kathryn watched him duck into the shuttle's small bathroom. She'd finished her own abulutions before he'd returned for the night, so she dimmed the lights and tapped the controls for the rear seats. They folded down flat into horizontal positions and the upholstry side-seams' static fasteners came apart with a faint crackle of static electricity that was more felt by the hairs on her arms than heard. The air pillows built into each headrest inflated with an audible hiss. Lifting one chair's outer upholstry, which would serve as her coverlet, she removed her robe and slipped quickly into bed in her underwear.

 

Her eyes wandered to the bathroom door again. She knew why he took so long each night; he was giving her time and privacy to get comfortably tucked in before re-entering their small living space. She silently thanked him for it; she did feel unacountably shy around him now, which was ironic when she considered the months they walked about practically naked because they couldn't get enough of each other.

 

Kathryn blushed and felt a faint arousal creeping into her nether regions. She thought of all the times she hadn't worn panties in anticipation of their lovemaking—up against a tree in the forest, on the river-bank, in the greenhouse . . . or straddling him at his sand-painting table because she couldn't wait for him to finish an intricate design that so engrossed him.

 

She swallowed a moan that rose in her throat. But that was before . . . before she'd made the mistake that had tested—and ultimately destroyed—their love. Before he'd betrayed his promise to always stand beside her and make her burdens lighter. Before they'd each betrayed so many pomises they'd made to each other.

 

Chakotay left the bathroom dressed as he was most nights in nothing but a pair of shorts; his finely toned, muscular physique still achingly beautiful even in the dim light. She shivered.

 

"Are you cold?" he asked gently.

 

"A little," she lied, bringing her wayward thoughts firmly under control. "I'll be fine in a minute."

 

He flashed a gorgeous, dimpled smile, eyes twinkling impudently with the knowledge of what his nearly naked body did to her. He'd started to pursue her again and the overwhelming ache between her legs told her that she _wanted_ him to catch her; but the ache in her heart and her soul made her wary and skittish of his advances. He knew it and respected it—and stalked her with an excruciating slowness that had turned the formidable Captain Janeway into a mass of quivering jelly in his arms once and threatened to again.

 

"Good night, Kathryn," he said still smiling as he climbed into his own makeshift chair-bunk.

 

She shivered again at the sound of his voice; there were times she hated his patience.

 

"Good night, Chakotay," she replied hoarsely, acutely aware of her own rising frustration at being unable to even seek release in masturbation with him so close.

 

There were times when she _really_ hated his patience.

 

****

 

Kathryn listened, apprehensively stroking the phaser rifle in her lap, as the alien woman tried to haggle more calcite ore from Chakotay. She heard him go up to 700 grams, but they had been prepared to go as high as two kilograms.

 

"So where is your partner Okris?" the young woman asked curiously. "The little Talaxian female."

 

"She's around," Chakotay replied. Kathryn watched the tricorder data on the parts come in—at least this Malakier was being honest about the quality of the parts she sold. He shut off the instrument and moved to stand right next to the large container.

 

"Are they satisfactory?"

 

"Yes." Kathryn watched him remove the 100-gram packets of calcite ore and the lobi crystals and hand them to her. She barely saw the gold-skinned woman move before her arm was around Chakotay's throat and her weapon at his head.

 

"Call your partner out Okris—or whoever you are—because you are no Trabe any more than she is a Talaxian," the woman said harshly.

 

Kathryn sprang into action immediately, activating the transporter to capture them both and deactivating the woman's weapon. She moved quickly to the transporter pad at the back of the shuttle and kept her weapon trained on the position where the woman would appear as she dematerialised them.

 

Kathryn watched the golden alien stiffen as she pressed the phaser rifle against the back of her head. "At this range I won't miss," Kathryn promised her in a soft voice; the woman immediately dropped the weapon and released her hold on Chakotay. He withdrew his phaser and aimed it at her. He gestured her over to the wall as Kathryn transported the parts. To their complete amazement the young woman sat down on one of the seats that doubled as a bunk and laughed heartily.

 

"I knew I that had chosen wisely," she said looking up at them impudently. They both gaped at her in surprise. "Now lower your weapons. No doubt, as you have been able to ascertain, I have no others on my person. I have a proposition to make that would be fruitful to us all. If you help me deliver some cargo, I will get you that warp core you need." She grinned as they hesitated. "Come now, believe me, I am not looking to get myself killed. I prize my life too highly—well most of the time."

 

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Chakotay asked warily.

 

"As I said Okris—I guess I can keep calling you that for now," she said pleasantly. "I am Malakier and I need you to help me deliver some valuable cargo to a world on the far side of the Zenprata Empire. In exchange I will get you a Class Two Dexin warp core assembly, compatible with a Reelixia Class Talaxian cargo ship, and much newer and more efficient than the Class Four assembly you have been trying to purchase."

 

Kathryn lowered her weapon and after a moment, Chakotay did likewise. "And just how do you know we are not a Talaxian and a Trabe?"

 

The woman's musical laugh rang out again as she answered. "In the fist place, that is rather an unusual combination to find—you did well to work mostly apart. In the second place, you are both too honest and forthright. In the third place, I have an excellent sense of smell—much more highly developed than most species I have encountered, and you two definitely do not have the scents of those species. In the fourth place—"

 

Kathryn couldn't fight her urge to laugh. "There's a fourth place as well?" she asked with a chuckle.

 

Malakier grinned as Kathryn sat down across from her. "Oh yes, now that I have seen your craft and gone through your matter transportation device. Because unless I have suddenly become as stupid as a Zenprata mudpuppy, only one ship I know of has technology like this—a ship I am told came from the other side of the galaxy. A ship called _Voyager_ , which everyone from the idiot Kazon, to the repulsive Vidiians, to the traitorous Trabe, have been trying to get their hands on since it came here over three years ago.

 

"A ship led by a small, red haired, blue-eyed female, who made fools of the fools and seemed to have some strange notion of not interfering with the internal machinations of other species. And at her side was a tall, strong male to lend his sword arm in her service; who came here in his own ship and sacrificed it to save hers. An interesting pair, do you not think?" she said still grinning impishly at them. "Anyway, I know that the ship left this sector under a different leader—a dark-skinned male with curiously pointed ears." The young woman sobered up and smiled warmly. "I even have a little information on that ship if you like; there is no charge."

 

Kathryn reached for Chakotay apprehensively, her heart in her eyes. He nodded his agreement and squeezed her hand gently. They had been afraid to ask about _Voyager_ for fear of attracting unwanted attention, and had listened in vain for any news about her.

 

"Yes, we would like that very much," she said softly as she faced Malakier.

 

"It isn't much, only that _Voyager_ left this sector a little over four standard Zenprata months ago and passed through the station that serves as the gateway to the Nekrit Expanse," the young woman continued softly. "The ship was in excellent shape, but the reason I happened on this information is because your little Talaxian friend got into some trouble attempting to obtain maps of the sectors beyond the Expanse—all that seemed to have been cleared up with a minimum of problems. The only other bit of information I have is from over fourteen months ago but it was the first time I'd heard of the dark male being in command. The Nistrim made a play for the ship trying to use the child of a female traitor from that ship—I believe her name is Seska. The child was said to be that of the former second in command of _Voyager_. It failed however, as the dark male avoided the trap, asking them to provide tissue samples to prove the parentage of the child, since the father was dead along with their leader. Since then however, Culluh has been raising the child as his own—hardly the thing a Kazon male would do for another male's child. Perhaps the female traitor means something to him, but I doubt she means that much."

 

The young woman regarded their stunned faces silently.

 

"How do you know all this?" Chakotay asked hoarsely.

 

She grinned at them again and relaxed into her seat. "Among my—shall we say special talents, I am a purveyor of information. I have an excellent reputation of being discrete and reliable—I even know where Culluh, Seska and the child are, although it would be rather troublesome to get to them. However, I am confident I could get to them rather easily if the purpose is to positively ascertain the parentage of the child. Culluh is well known for his appetite for exotic females and he is an arrogant fool. I am the only one of my kind in this sector; not even I know where my people are."

 

She chuckled softly at their flabbergasted expressions and continued, "However, first things first. What I propose is a simple exchange of services, the delivery in exchange for the warp core, and as you are people of honour, you have my word of honour that there are no hidden agendas and that I will not try to harm you in any way. If you wish to avail yourselves of any of my other talents, I am confident that something can be worked out to our mutual satisfaction."

 

"And how do we know we can trust you?" Kathryn asked shrewdly.

 

The young woman gave a wry smile. "Because you have excellent instincts," she said. "You also have something that intrigues me because I do not come across it very often—you are among the few adults I have met who do not reek of lies and deceit. That is something I regard highly, for what it is worth. But if you must know more about me, I will tell you quickly—time grows short and I must move the cargo before it is discovered.

 

"I am a mercenary and bodyguard—I have been such all my adult life. It was a Trabe scavenger actually, who found me in the wastelands of Teerixi and kept me as a slave. She named me Malakier; my few intimates call me Mala. My earliest memory is of her whip and nothing else for a long time. I supposed I must have been learning something, but all I know was that one day I woke up and knew that I was a person and that this was no way for a person to live. So stole her money and escaped."

 

Kathryn met the young woman's eyes and knew she was speaking the truth. "That was twenty years ago. Since then I have been on my own. I work when I want and for whom I want. I've escaped more than a few assassinations and killed more than my share of people. I live by my own codes. Whatever job I undertake, be it as part of the Poirolton Mercenaries or a solo assignment, I command my own prices. And no one who cheats me once lives to cheat me a second time. Ten days ago I was contracted to procure and deliver a—shall we say precious item—and that is why I am in the mess I am right now."

 

"What mess?" Chakotay asked, clearly intrigued.

 

She shook her head ruefully as she answered. "One knows when one is on the verge of complete moral bankruptcy, when one walks into danger simply because one is bored."

 

Malakier laughed at their confusion. "I was hired to transport a very special young man."

 

She studied them speculatively for a moment, and then shrugged before continuing. "He is the youngest Zenprata prince and was sent off-world for his own protection—most of his family have met very violent deaths. But now he must be returned to the Empire and there are many that will try to prevent his ascension to the throne. His older cousin, King Rolan, is about ten years older and is a poor ruler. There is a power-struggle between Rolan's people and both boys' grandmother, Triena, the old King Mother. She is positioning herself to oust Rolan from power and have Prince Toden assume the throne. She believes that it's the only way to pull the Empire out of the economic straits and an unprovoked war with the Nemui Alliance that Rolan has the Empire's forces mired in. Toden's grandmother and her people are waiting for him on Janath, a world deep within the Empire. If you will scan the structure where you met me tonight, you will find hidden on the fifth sub-level, a stasis chamber with the young prince inside."

 

Kathryn moved silently to the front to perform the scan, while Chakotay sat regarding the alien woman closely. "How do we know that you aren't out to expose the grandmother's rebellion and this boy simply a ruse to get to her?" he asked softly.

 

"You do not." Kathryn heard her reply quietly. "And that is a good scenario. I have no proof of my intentions. I can only give you my word that neither the boy nor his grandmother will be harmed, and neither will you. When we get to Janath, I will send Triena proof of his identity and will then deliver the boy to her—under your supervision if you will. Once we have completed the transfer, we will return here and I will obtain the warp core for you."

 

"The scans confirm what she says, Chakotay," Kathryn said softly. "There is a stasis unit with the body of a Zenprata adolescent inside. There's also a carry case with various weapons, food supplies and articles of clothing."

 

Kathryn met Chakotay's eyes and knew that he was waiting for her decision. She didn't know if she believed the other woman's story, she certainly wanted to, but she also knew instinctively that this was a very dangerous individual. She cleared her throat as she spoke, "When we get to Janath, Chakotay will oversee the transfer."

 

Malakier smiled in relief. "Fair enough. Thank you."

 

Chakotay motioned to her to help him move the case of shield emitter parts. "What about supplies for the prince?" he asked. "From what we understand, Zenprata dietary needs and laws are rather restricted by their religion."

 

"That's why he's in stasis," she replied. "Zenprata kings have even more specialised needs. If he eats _anything_ the priests consider unclean and they find even a trace of it, he will never become king no matter how good his claim or how good he is for the Empire. How long will it take us to get to Janath in this ship?"

 

Kathryn looked up from her panel as she located the system in their database. "Five to six days at warp 5. Stand by to transport."

 

Kathryn's mind worked furiously as she manipulated the transporter controls—in her gut she felt she could trust this woman, but in her head she was wary. Her intellect was screaming that this was a foolhardy venture, and she felt a little uncertain—it had been a long time since _Captain_ Janeway faced a decision like this.

 

There was also the matter of the Prime Directive—how had Malakier put it? _"Interfering in the internal machinations of others."_

 

She turned to study the other woman as she checked the stasis unit—suddenly it was like a mask dropped for an instant as Malakier cleared the fog from the unit's faceplate. Kathryn wasn't sure what she saw on the alien woman's face—loneliness, sorrow, compassion, she only felt a sense that there was far more to this person than the ruthless killer she professed to be. Chakotay smiled at her as he slipped into the pilot's seat and began the pre-flight check. There was a sudden sob from behind them and they turned to Malakier in confusion—the woman was weeping, her face buried in her hands!

 

Kathryn shared an uncomfortable look with Chakotay.

 

After a few moments she sat back and dried her eyes smiling at them. "What by all the priests in the Holy Temple am I to do with the two of you? Little more than an hour in your company and you've reduced me to tears. I haven't cried in years—so tell me, what am I to do with you for the eleven days this trip will take?" She laughed at their continued confusion. "You turned your backs on me," she explained softly. "Do you realise how easily I could kill the both of you even without weapons? I could have taken this ship!"

 

"I think we all know what you're capable of Malakier," Kathryn replied. "If you mean to kill us, you can do it at any time."

 

"So you're just going to trust me not to?" she asked in outrage. Kathryn gave her a wry smile as Chakotay turned back to the controls with a chuckle. "Well that's a responsibility no one has given me in a long time."

 

"I hardly think you are the type of person who kills indiscriminately for fun," Kathryn said seriously.

 

"Believe me, you have little idea what I do for fun, but I thank you for your confidence. We have not been formally introduced, but I assume that you are Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay?" she said smiling.

 

"Yes," Kathryn replied. "We're pleased to meet you."

 

Malakier came forward to watch. "Likewise, Kathryn Janeway—I have a feeling this is going to be the most interesting risk I have ever taken." She looked out the forward viewport as they rose through the atmosphere into space. "I thought we had already been in space. Where were we?" she asked in surprise.

 

Chakotay chuckled again. "Sorry, Malakier," he said, "trade secret. We don't know you quite that well yet."

 

She smiled tiredly and watched as they plunged into the depths of space. "We'll be coming up on the perimeter mines in about five hours. I haven't been able to get the new access codes, but I have some tricks—"

 

"Don't worry," Chakotay grinned. "We have a few tricks of our own. Are you hungry? Kathryn and I usually have our evening meal at this time."

 

"Yes, thank you," she replied. "There is also food in my carry case—" She laughed suddenly. "My, but this is all very polite. Do you not find it strange to be suddenly thrust into the company of a mercenary and outlaw?"

 

"You're looking at two people who've been thrust 70,000 light years from their homes," Kathryn replied as she began a scan of Malakier. "Believe me, we've been in stranger situations."

 

"We're Starfleet officers," Chakotay quipped. "Weird is part of the job."

 

Kathryn giggled as the continued the scan. "Hold still, I just want to make sure you can metabolise our food," she explained.

 

"You are worried about poisoning me?" Malakier asked in disbelief. "That is a first. You should not worry," she said, her expression twisted into a bitter sneer. "Trying to kill this _freak_ is a planetary past time around here and about half of those who try to kill me use poisons. I have had more chemicals poured down my throat than the number of Vidiian transplants performed each month. I am a fast healer and have a vicious immune system. I have never been sick with any type of infection in my entire life."

 

Kathryn exchanged a shocked look with Chakotay.

 

"I know, it shocks me too," Malakier continued quietly.

 

Kathryn moved quietly to warm up their meals, considering the young prince in his stasis chamber and his strange, unlikely guardian. "How would you have transported the prince to Janath if we hadn't come along?" she asked as she passed the trays around a few minutes later.

 

Malakier smiled between mouthfuls of food. "I booked passage on a ship making a clandestine run to join the rebellion, but you never can know about those things—those you think are in charge may not necessarily be, or may be only front people who genuinely think they are in charge. It will be good to sleep tonight. I have less than ten hours in the last six days. Is it polite for me to ask how it is that the two of you are still here when your ship is not? From what I have heard, your people were loyal to you, and the dark-skinned one was your closest friend, Kathryn Janeway. Mutiny, while not completely outside the realm of possibility, hardly seems likely."

 

Kathryn placed her food container in the recycler and went to the pilot's seat to relieve Chakotay, who moved off towards the rear of the shuttle. "Chakotay and I became ill with a disease that our doctor could not cure. However, there was a place we could remain in relative safety where conditions were such that the progression of the illness would be halted. The Doctor couldn't duplicate those conditions and if we left we would die. Three months ago, we found a cure, and now we are attempting to catch up with _Voyager_."

 

"I see," she replied thoughtfully. "That is why you need a faster ship; you couldn't hope to catch up if warp 5 is the best this craft can do. Still, your _Voyager_ has had an enormous head start and from what I am told, is a marvel of a ship. I doubt you can overtake her in a Reelixia Class ship."

 

Chakotay joined her and began his dinner. "It is in our nature to try. They are our people, our responsibility. Anyway, Kathryn has a knack for technological improvisation and adapting alien technology to suit our needs. If there is a way to catch up with _Voyager_ , I'm confident we'll find it.

 

She nodded and met each of their eyes before spreading out on the bunk. "Of that I have little doubt," she said. "Please wake me if you have any problems at the perimeter."

 

****

 

"What kind of condition do you think this warp core is in?" Chakotay asked Kathryn softly. He smiled at her, keeping one eye on his instruments; even disguised as a Talaxian, she still looked adorable. She would look beautiful even as a Ferengi, he thought cheerfully.

 

"Do you not think you should have asked me that question two days ago?" came Malakier's voice from behind them. They turned to face the alien woman as she sat up and gave a cat-like stretch.

 

"Do not trouble your mind with worry, Chakotay," she said. "The warp core is in perfect condition; it has never even been installed in any ship. I bought it at the insistence of my engineer, Byrilar, the only other person I have ever trusted with my life. She said she could adapt it to our ship, make her better, faster and even if it had not—it was a purchase I still would have gladly made if it made her happy. She was as you said of your Kathryn, a great improviser and adapter of technology. That was two years ago. Then a great fool, who thought himself a great warrior, killed her over a rank triviality. An hour later, he lived to regret it."

 

There was a hard, vicious glint in her eyes that made it clear to Kathryn—whatever Malakier had done to her friend's murderer, she didn't want to know.

 

"Since then, the warp core has been as she left it in my docking berth—I have neither the skill, nor the inclination to install it. I have only taken the precaution of removing the matter-antimatter injector module for safety and hiding it—if you find any damage, in any component, I will of course replace it."

 

"Thank you," Chakotay replied. "We are sorry about your friend."

 

She gave a wry, bitter twist of a smile. "Yes, I do believe you are."

 

"Why didn't you use your ship to transport the boy?" Kathryn asked curiously.

 

"It is too well known," Malakier replied. "It is also in far too great disrepair. I am a fair pilot, a good fighter and can perform very basic maintenance, but I have neither the education nor the aptitude to be an engineer. Right now, the only things that keep her space worthy are the shields and structural integrity field. My ignorance of her warp systems ensures that I do not use her very often and only my fighting skills and the tricks I was taught has saved me on countless occasions. In fact, you may take anything you wish from her when you take possession of the warp core assembly."

 

Chakotay shared an astonished look with Kathryn. "Thank you again, Malakier," Kathryn said slowly. "But we don't want to cripple you—"

 

Malakier laughed softly and came to stand between their chairs. "Do not worry about that—I will have little use for her when we return, so you might as well salvage her parts for your ship, because you see, I have decided to go with you."

 

" _What_?" Chakotay heard the strangled, incredulous word rip from his throat and make Kathryn jump. Malakier, however, stood smiling down at him unperturbed.

 

"Who else will look after the two of you?" she asked in amusement. "You are far too innocent and trusting to be let loose on your own."

 

Chakotay laughed at her audacity—even as his mind ran through the pros and cons of her offer. He could see the same consideration in Kathryn's eyes as she spoke to the alien woman. "We hardly need looking after," Kathryn said, "we are both fairly good starship commanders in our own right and we can look after ourselves. We've been to places and in situations that you can only imagine."

 

"And in ships of unimaginable technological superiority if my information is correct," she replied. "You do not have that anymore, not in a Talaxian ship or in this little craft. You could afford that honesty then, those principles of yours—and I am loathed to see that goodness destroyed in you," she answered almost fondly.

 

"We are hardly babes in the woods," Kathryn said dryly. She looked at Chakotay and asked, "Shall we give her a demonstration?" He grinned and nodded as he changed course to intercept a Zenprata warship. "We may not be deceitful by nature, or feel the need to be as ruthless as you, but we are not without our own strengths."

 

Chakotay glanced up and saw intense worry in the Malakier's eyes for the first time. "What are you doing?" she asked nervously as the range closed on the hulking warship. He brought the shuttle to rest relative to the other ship—its nose almost kissing the heavily armoured bow. "Why have they not fired on you? They fire on anything that moves around here."

 

Kathryn laughed at her growing unease. "They haven't fired, because they do not know we are here," she answered as she rose. "You should know better than to underestimate any _innocent_ , Malakier," she said drawing on her hood and glasses. She tapped the controls on her wrist and disappeared. Chakotay chuckled at the alien woman's flabbergasted expression, which soon gave way to one of respect.

 

"Here, put these on," he said tossing her his pair of glasses. He watched her smile as she located Kathryn, who reappeared a moment later.

 

"How?" Malakier asked softly, handing back the glasses to Chakotay and sitting down on the edge of her bunk.

 

Chakotay moved the shuttle away from the warship and resumed their course as Kathryn answered her. "It has its basis in the cloaking technology developed by different species in our home quadrant. As I've said, Malakier, we have been a lot of places and seen many things … learned many things. I think you'll find we are not as innocent as we may appear to you."

 

She nodded and as Chakotay watched, the confidence almost visibly bled away from her. "Will you take me with you please?" she asked, not lifting her eyes from her hands on her lap. At that moment she seemed impossibly young.

 

"Why do you want to go?" Kathryn asked as she met Chakotay's eyes.

 

The young woman hesitated before she spoke, as if trying to make up her mind. "Because I need to know if I was meant for anything more than this existence I keep. All my life I have felt it; but I have never truly _known_ it. I began life as slave, and then I became a killer. I have tried to help those I can, but I know I've harmed many—killed as it suited me—and not only those who deserved it. I have always imagined that Byrilar and I would leave this place, find my people and ask the reason for my existence—if I was meant for anything more than to be abandoned on some sewer planet. Then Byrilar was killed and I was lost. I did not think of the journey again and just allowed myself to be carried along by inertia for the last two years."

 

She met their eyes slowly as she asked again, "Will you take me with you please?"

 

"May we have a few days to think it over?" Kathryn asked, meeting Chakotay's eyes. He understood what he saw there, excitement and a willingness to take on this strange woman—coupled with bewilderment at just exactly at what point they had become shanghaied by her.

 

"Of course," was the soft answer.

 

"And Malakier," Kathryn continued seriously. "If we do take you with us, these mercenary tactics and casual assassinations you've lived by have got to stop. Killing in self-defence we can understand, or killing to save another, but we can't condone killing for money. God alone knows the things we have done in our lives for whatever reasons—neither of us is the innocent you make us out to be, so we have no right to stand in judgement of how you've lived your life till now. But we have our consciences, the person in the mirror we must answer to and as you can well imagine, that person has a real problem with your particular gun-for-hire lifestyle. It's not something we can live with."

 

Malakier smiled and nodded. "You do not ask much do you?" she quipped. "You have my word that I will give up the _gun-for-hire_ business. I only hope we can come up with a suitable hobby I can use to vent my frustrations," she finished, laughing as Kathryn gave an audible groan. "I will go and check the boy's life signs now."

 

Chakotay chuckled as she made her way to the back of the shuttlecraft. "Let me guess," he said grinning as he turned back to his displays. "You're wondering exactly when we lost control of this situation."

 

Kathryn returned his laughter. "Nope, my guess is that happened the moment she laid eyes on us. Well, what do you think?"

 

"I think it's going to be an interesting journey no matter where we end up," he replied still grinning at her, and his heart soared as she hugged him from behind before going back to talk to Malakier.

 

****

 

"What do you want, _vermin_?" The large male Zenprata captain barked angrily from the viewscreen.

 

"You will tell Triena that I demand to speak with her _immediately_ , or I will destroy you where you stand," Malakier snarled. Kathryn smiled at her performance—a little over the top, but effective. "I know perfectly well that you can not track my transmission, but I can destroy your entire ship if it suits my purpose before you could even get a single shot off. Now, you over-muscled mudpuppy, put your liege on the system and secure the channel before I lose patience."

 

"And when have you ever had any patience, Malakier," came a new and clearly amused voice.

 

"I have been learning wisdom in my old age," she answered the regal Zenprata woman whose image replaced the captain's.

 

"There was no need to insult and threaten my finest warrior," the old woman chided with a smile that showed off her sharp teeth.

 

"I do not have time to waste, your Highness," Malakier said, all amusement gone from her voice. "I know that he is a pawn, but I must ask; will the boy be safe with you? Answer carefully, Highness," Malakier warned.

 

"Yes, Mala," the old woman answered without hesitation. "And as soon as he is with me again, he will know it!"

 

"We shall see. Go to the Circle of Prayer in your inner sanctum," Malakier ordered. "You shall find a sample container of tissue there. Verify the prince's lineage; I have no wish to be involved in a greater conspiracy against you or your grandson and I will contact you in ten minutes. Once that is done, I will direct you as to where you may find him, and if he does not verify your trustworthiness, you _will_ pay the price."

 

"Understood Malakier," the empress answered solemnly. "Understood."

 

Kathryn closed the channel as Malakier turned to her. "How is Chakotay?" she asked quietly.

 

"He and the prince are doing fine," Kathryn answered. "No one has detected them and the prince is still sedated." The console beeped twice and Kathryn confirmed the information. "She has the container—do you think ten minutes is long enough to run the tests?"

 

"More than enough time," Malakier replied. "There—she has returned to her communication's station. Signal Chakotay to decloak and revive the boy." As Kathryn signalled Chakotay, Zenprata King Mother moved to the viewscreen and activated it.

 

"Have you verified his identity, your Highness?" Malakier asked.

 

"Yes, Malakier, he is my grandson," the old woman replied with fire in her eyes. Kathryn could sense her triumph even across the vastness of space.

 

"A Trabe will now leave your inner sanctum with the boy," Malakier instructed as she signalled Kathryn to tell Chakotay to put their plan into action. "You will allow him to return to the sanctum unharmed and to remain unmolested for one hour."

 

Triena nodded as the door opened and Chakotay entered the youth. The boy laughed and threw his arms around the old woman and Chakotay hastily retreated.

 

"Toden, do you remember me?" Malakier called sharply as Kathryn transported Chakotay.

 

"Yes," the boy replied, approaching the communications station. "You are Malakier, who gave me the choice to put down my weapon and save myself."

 

"You have chosen wisely, Majesty," Malakier said quietly. "Now you must choose again. Are you safe in arms of your grandmother."

 

Kathryn heard Chakotay's intake of breath match her own as the boy grabbed his grandmother's head—his hands pressed against her temples. Currents of electricity flashed between them and the old woman screamed before pressing her hands against his temples. They stood locked together for eternal minutes before springing apart—energy discharges sparked throughout the room before dissipating. The boy smiled a feral smile to match his grandmother's.

 

"Yes Malakier," he said, "I am safe now. I am home."

 

"Then, Prince Toden, I will take my leave of you. Remember your part in our agreement. Be wise and strong, rule well and may the Empire of the Zenprata rise to the fore once again," Malakier said with a solemn bow.

 

"Goodbye, Malakier. I will remember," he replied with equal solemnity. "Shall we ever meet again?"

 

"I pray not, Majesty," the gold-skinned woman replied quietly. "Goodbye Triena; may you be assured victory in your cause."

 

"Goodbye, Malakier, and thank you," the old woman replied bowing formally as Malakier closed the channel.

 

After a moment, she turned to Kathryn and Chakotay, drying her eyes. "I suggest my friends, that we get going as soon as you are able," she said as Chakotay handed Kathryn her camouflage suit, which they'd used to cloak the boy.

 

"You and the King Mother seem well acquainted," Kathryn said as she ran through the pre-flight system with Chakotay.

 

"Yes, we've met a few times before," she replied, lost deep in thought.

 

As they left the Janath system behind, Chakotay asked as he finished checking the integrity of the cloak, "Could you explain what we just witnessed?"

 

Malakier answered softly. "I told you that Zenprata royalty had even more restricted diets than the general population—not only must they eat food that is prepared by special priests, they must also feed on neural energy to survive. They can manipulate bioelectric fields and can kill an ordinary person with that power; that's why I cautioned you not to touch him with your bare hands. However, short-term contact can act as a conduit for reading another person's thoughts. Hopefully he is strong enough to kill Rolan and take the throne."

 

Kathryn's voice was thoughtful as she spoke. "I've heard of similar species in the alpha quadrant where we come from, but they didn't seem to have any telepathic abilities."

 

Malakier cleared her throat as she continued. "Toden needed time to grow up—I'm fairly sure Rolan had his parents killed. That's why Triena sent him away," Malakier said in a voice tinged with regret. "I would have liked to see what becomes of him in fifteen years, but I must get on with my own destiny."

 

"Malakier," Kathryn said softly. "We may never find your people."

 

"I know," she replied smiling enigmatically. "But I am learning that it is in my nature to try."

 

****

 


	2. The Feathers of Blackbirds

"Well, what do you think Madam?" Chakotay asked comically as he put down the bio-sculptor and whipped the mirror from behind his back. He held it up so Kathryn could see her face.

 

"It's great to have my own face back," she replied touching the familiar contours experimentally. "Thanks, Chakotay," she said taking the mirror from him. His fingers lingered on hers a few moments longer than was necessary and her heart stopped as she looked into his eyes.

 

The footsteps approaching from the direction of Chakotay's bedroom interrupted the moment as Malakier entered the living room.

 

"Are you all settled in Malakier?" Kathryn asked as Chakotay put the medical instruments away.

 

"They were right, you are a handsome couple," Malakier replied appraising them frankly. "And yes, I am settled in. Thank you for the use of your quarters Chakotay. I hope you will not be too inconvenienced."

 

He looked at Kathryn, who blushed as he answered roguishly, "No, not too inconvenienced."

 

Kathryn shook out her hair as she rose. "Well I'm going to take a bath," she said moving towards her bedroom.

 

This was not quite the circumstance under which she expected Chakotay to return to her bed. In the last year since they'd settled on New Earth, they'd become lovers. Then in the darkest moment of their lives—when they'd needed each other most—they'd failed each other, allowing misunderstandings and fear and anger to push them apart.

 

They had been slowly getting comfortable with each other again over the last few months, but it hadn't yet moved beyond hand-holding and a few tentative hugs and kisses. Kathryn grinned as she pulled on her robe, gave her hair a few brisk brushes and gathered up her bathing supplies—tonight was definitely going to be tense. As she ran her bubble bath, Chakotay came out of the greenhouse with a large basket of fruits and vegetables.

 

"Where's Malakier?" she asked as he closed the door.

 

"Gone for a walk by the river," he replied heading for the house. "Call me if you need your back scrubbed," he added playfully.

 

Kathryn laughed and snapped her towel at him. As she pinned her hair up she continued to chuckle to herself—it felt good to start feeling this way about him again. She sank into the hot water groaning loudly, as the heat soaked into her bones, and closed her eyes.

 

Some time later, she heard Malakier pass and opened her eyes. "Did you have a good walk?"

 

"Yes, I have rarely been in a place as lovely as this," she answered, then gave a short laugh and shook her head. "No truth be told, I have never been in a place as lovely as this—I have never felt so . . . I do not know how to describe the feeling. I kept looking back for someone following me, yet I knew there was no one." She laughed softly and sat down on the edge of the tub's platform as she continued. "I think we should go back to Teerixi and collect the warp core and my ship as soon as possible Kathryn, for I fear that I will rapidly become soft in this place."

 

Malakier pulled her long gold hair out of its braid—it shone with a metallic glint in the light and Kathryn wondered about a physiology that produce a person that looked like she had been covered in gold leaf. And not for the first time, Kathryn wondered if Malakier was an artificially produced being.

 

"Are you sure you wish to leave this world?" Malakier asked.

 

"It's lovely, but it's not our home," Kathryn answered softly. "Two people alone here hiding from whoever may come—we have no future here."

 

Malakier nodded thoughtfully, and went inside. Kathryn watched the empty threshold for a moment, then closed her eyes and sank back into the tub. Over the last two weeks spent in the shuttle with the young woman, she'd watched the subtle changes in her as she tried finding herself, alternately acting like the tough, heartless soldier and the vulnerable young woman. She had spoken a little more about Byrilar, her tinker and fixer of broken things—Kathryn wondered what that woman had been like, who had cared for this broken young woman who had gone from slave to mercenary. What had Byrilar thought about Malakier's chosen profession? From what Kathryn understood, she had aided and abetted her, fixing her ship, weapons—and whatever else became broken in the process. Kathryn rolled her head around to loosen her tight muscles, and let all her thoughts just float away.

 

****

 

"The biggest problem as I see it is going to be your ship, Malakier," Chakotay said looking over the list of items they still had to purchase. "With the Zenprata still gunning for you, it's going to be pretty dangerous to go back. I think that it would be preferable for us to take the cloak we built for the derelict and install it in your ship so we can get it out unseen. Afterwards, we can use it again when we tow the derelict here. Once here, we can cloak the Talaxian ship and work on it much easier and faster. What have we got to trade, Kathryn?"

 

Malakier laughed. "We haven't time for your bartering, Chakotay, if we must go in and out quickly. You forget who and what I am." Malakier's eyes twinkled as she continued, "And one thing most people don't know is that on Teerixi, I am one of the richest people there."

 

Kathryn's eyes widened, before her lips twisted into a wry smile at the surprising revelation. Chakotay chuckled and shook his head.

 

"I may not be able to purchase you a new ship," Malakier said, "but I can get the best of everything we need. The first thing we'll do is contact Varix, who owns the yard where my ship is berthed—he is an old Talaxian friend who likes to handle my money and can be trusted relatively well as far as my friends go. I have my own private berth there and Byrilar's security system makes certain that whoever tries to break in does _not_ get a second chance. We will go in by means of your phasing mechanism, ready my ship as well as you two can make it. In the meanwhile, Varix will make our most of our purchases and I will hire three Poirolton Mercenaries—two to guard the purchases, the last to guard Varix. By now the news of the boy's escape to his grandmother should have filtered back and it will make people wary of tangling in my business for a while. Varix will be able to make the purchases as discretely as possible—as well no one will think to look for me right under their noses. Once the warp engine is safely stored and the cloak installed, then we will rendezvous with Varix to obtain the supplies.

 

"Chakotay, you will have to handle the shuttle by yourself, because I will need Kathryn to handle the cloak while I pilot my ship. I will not have Varix purchase the weapons; that I will leave to the Master Commander of the Poirolton Mercenaries. He should be able to get what we need in about a month and a half and he can be trusted as far as I am concerned—"

 

"How can you be sure of that?" Chakotay asked worriedly.

 

A soft smile came to Malakier's lips as she answered, "He was Byrilar's lover—they have a child. He knows my skill. Master Commander Solen and I have a healthy respect for each other; you might even say we are friends."

 

She frowned for a moment, as she looked at them in deep concentration before continuing. "There is one thing however, knowing how you feel about killing, I will not actively seek to kill anyone—I will keep that promise, but if anyone comes after me, I most likely will not leave them alive, my reflexes are too well trained for that. In fact, that is probably the most humane thing to do, considering the condition I have left those, who have remained alive, in. These people know exactly the risks they run coming after me—and once I return to the hunting grounds of Teerixi, all my instincts will again be at the fore."

 

"As long as you can live with your conscience afterwards," Chakotay said softly.

 

"Yes, my conscience," she repeated thoughtfully. "One of the stranger things you two have awakened in me. I have not quite decided if that is a good thing or not, but at the moment it is driving me to tell you about something else, and I suppose if we are to make this journey together, it would be best if I did. Perhaps you can make some use of it, Kathryn."

 

Kathryn and Chakotay shared a silent glance before she asked gently, "What is it?"

 

"I have hidden—I suppose I should start at the beginning," she said quietly. "Five years ago, when Byrilar and I decided to seek out my people, we found the Trabe's partner—well you can imagine how terrified he was to find out what the little creature they had enslaved so many years ago had grown up to become. He told me the location of the place they had found me and I swore him to secrecy—my reputation is enough to shut anyone's mouth. We went there and as soon as I set down near a large formation of boulders, I knew the place; I knew where to go to find it. There was a small hole in the side of the sheer rock face—just large enough for something the size of your primate to move through, but I knew I had to get back inside."

 

Chakotay watched the tears streaming down her face, but neither he nor Kathryn interrupted her. "I remember clawing frantically at the rock as if I could make it give away. Byrilar used our weapons to enlarge the opening and perfectly entombed in the solid rock was a small craft—no larger than a life pod to hold one adult and made of a material that does not register on any sensors we know of. We were debating how to get it out, when I do not know why, but I simply got in, placed my hands in the mechanism and thought of my ship. I was there instantly. I can still remember the awed look on Byrilar's face. She studied the mechanism closely and we tested its range secretly. I have taken it eighty light years in four hours before I was exhausted, but the craft only takes one, or perhaps one adult and a child."

 

Kathryn gripped Chakotay's hand convulsively. _Eighty light years in four hours!!!!_

 

"We never found any other evidence of my people," Malakier continued quietly, oblivious to their excitement. "Byrilar felt certain she understood enough to integrate the mechanism into my ship. That is why she wanted the warp core, but it is more than that. She needed that specific type of warp core and asked for some rather specific attachments and modifications. I have her notes, but I have not the education to guess at what she was trying to do. What she did tell me is that the mechanism is probably coded both to my genetic make-up and to my brainwave pattern. No one can touch it unless I am present and allow it to be touched—once I became annoyed at Byrilar, and when she attempted to touch it, a repulser field went up and slammed her against the wall. She broke two bones. I have it hidden where I hid the matter-antimatter injector—on the eighth sub-level in the structure where I hid the prince. We should go and get it first. That is why I was so excited about your phasing mechanism. Perhaps you can understand what she meant to do."

 

Chakotay smiled as Kathryn put her arm around Malakier's shoulders, her eyes glowing in excitement.

 

"Perhaps we can," Kathryn said softly. "But this sounds different from a simple phasing. It sounds like a long distance propulsion drive, but without seeing it or any data on its use, I hesitate to speculate." He watched Kathryn's excitement build. "Do you have to know the place you're going in order to get there?"

 

"Yes," she replied. "I need some rough idea of where I am—reference points—else I become very anxious and disoriented. Byrilar chose a target from a star chart. I concentrated on not only the destination, but also the positions of the stars in between. But we used a three-dimensional chart; a two-dimensional one doesn't work as well. She mounted sensors and a small cartographic array on it externally, but the information was not as complete as she would have liked. I only wish it could tell me where I am from, who my parents were, who my people are. Someone brought the craft there, I feel certain there must have been an adult with me—perhaps it is not simply tuned to me, but to anyone of my kind."

 

"Well, this is certainly an unexpected windfall," Chakotay said. "You haven't found any way to access the memory banks? Even if the information is in a different language, there may be ways to retrieve it and translate it."

 

"I have never found anything in it that resembles a computer in any way," she answered. "In fact, the only thing vaguely mechanistic about it is the mechanism in which I put my hands. The rest is completely unfamiliar in terms of anything I know—yet it all seems familiar to me, it is like I should know it, know all about it, but I do not. It is like a memory clouded. Sometimes I fear that I have waited too long to seek it out and now all the secrets it might have imparted are gone," she whispered.

 

"I don't think so," Kathryn said thoughtfully. "If you were somehow programmed to know this device, the memory of how to use it may be something that is revealed gradually as you use it more or—"

 

Kathryn stopped and stared at Malakier, taking in her youthful face and thin, almost adolescent body. "Mala, how old are you?"

 

"I do not know—somewhere between thirty-two and thirty-five Poirolton years old I guess," she answered rather uncomfortably.

 

"You've been like this ever since you became an adolescent—haven't you?" Kathryn said quietly. "You haven't changed very perceptibly over the years, have you? Besides the cosmetics you employ and the apparent maturity you've taken pains to cultivate, you really haven't aged much in the last twenty years, have you, Malakier?"

 

Chakotay stared from Kathryn to the young woman in shock, and suddenly realised that Kathryn was right.

 

Malakier immediately went on the defensive and moved away from the table warily. "What of it?" she asked angrily.

 

Kathryn smiled and reached for her. "Don't you understand? That may be the reason that your memories have not surfaced properly yet—you may not be mature enough for them to be activated, that's why you only have vague glimpses and feelings."

 

"But it has been twenty years since I reached my adolescence," she said in outrage, flinching from Kathryn's touch. "Surely I am not a child anymore?"

 

"I don't know," Kathryn replied smiling even broader in amusement. "It would depend on just how long-lived your species is. Among Vulcans—like my dark-skinned friend on Voyager, their adolescence lasts till they are in their late twenties. Intellectually, they may be considered adults before then, but until their bodies go through the _pon-farr_ for the first time, they are not mature. After that, they age very slowly and may live for up to two hundred and fifty years. There are other species known who have an even longer childhood and adolescence. We don't even know how long you were on that planet before you were found. However, if you were given memories on how to use the mechanism, then it's not beyond the realm of possibility that someone expects you to return someday and it would be logical to wait until you were a mature adult, given the trouble they went through to conceal you. Do you know why you left the craft?"

 

"No," she whispered biting her lower lip. "Are you saying I was never meant to leave the craft?" she asked in sudden comprehension.

 

"We can't know that for certain, but the way you described it being entombed in solid rock, suggests that possibility," Chakotay answered picking up on Kathryn's train of thought. "Perhaps something happened to cause you to leave it, perhaps a damaged mechanism released you, or since it responds to your desires, it let you leave—"

 

"You make it sound like it is alive," she said in confusion.

 

"It may well be," Chakotay replied pacing thoughtfully. "Intelligent space dwelling beings have been known to be used as ships by other species, Malakier. Our Starfleet ships have come across a few over the years. That this craft doesn't have any recognisable mechanical parts except your control mechanism, suggests that it may be organic based. Even _Voyager_ has organic components such as bio-neural gel packs to speed up its computational ability and the memory capacity of the computer core. I don't want to get your hopes up, but that craft may indeed hold the secrets to your past."

 

Malakier sat heavily in one of the chairs and looked up at them. "You feel it too, do you not Chakotay? This sudden sense of urgency… this compulsion to flee as quickly as possible. What are you that you sense it too, Chakotay?"

 

He gazed at her in confusion and met Kathryn's eyes before responding, "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

 

"I am not sure I know what I mean either," she said quietly. "I have had a soft, tenuous feeling ever since I became aware of you. I have learned over the years to trust my instincts—to leave the room the moment I feel I must, most times before I register what my sense of smell or hearing are telling me about my environment. Now I feel vaguely like things are shifting as I sit here talking to you—there is a sense of apprehension and urgency being whispered on the wind. It is still soft, but stronger now than when I first became aware that you were not what you seemed."

 

"Have you had these premonitions often?" Chakotay asked, aware of Kathryn's overwhelming curiosity.

 

"No, but I have always trusted them—it is not like telepathy or anything like that, just a sort of impression of a memory, the type I get from the craft," she replied. "A memory of something yet to come . . . if that is possible."

 

"In this universe, I have learned that many things are possible," Chakotay said. "The impressions you are getting from me may be nothing more than my reacting subconsciously to your feelings. Maybe because of my upbringing and my people's beliefs in being attuned to the forces of the universe—perhaps that's what you sense in me, but I don't remember having premonitions of the kind you describe. Although," he considered silently for a moment, "most humans are prone to having a sense of deja-vu, the sense that you've been somewhere or done a particular thing before, but you know you haven't."

 

Malakier nodded, rubbing the side of her head tiredly. "Anyway, I think we should move as quickly as we can to be done with all our business on Teerixi. I do not like the change in the tides of my feelings. Kathryn, how soon can you have a cloaking suit ready for me, and how much time will it take to ready the cloaking device for my ship?"

 

"Four days."

 

"And after we have our supplies, how long before the new ship can be made space worthy?" Malakier continued.

 

"With the three of us working around the clock, two to two and a half months," Kathryn replied. "Moving it back here will reduce the time greatly. Try not to worry too much. If our luck holds, we should have all our supplies including weapons in the next two months. Once we have all the items you're getting Varix to obtain for us, we should return here and put the ship in order as much as possible before returning to collect the weapons. If anything, the weapons from your ship and the shuttle can be used if we need to defend ourselves. The major thing will be to get the warp core installed as quickly as possible and the power systems on-line. Navigation and computers aren't even going to be much of a problem if we can slave the shuttle's computer to the ship's central processing unit until we can get those systems up."

 

Chakotay smiled at the way she attempted to allay Malakier's fears and watched the young woman consider her words.

 

After a moment Malakier nodded and regarded them seriously as she rose. "I will get some sleep now. You have given me much to think on. Thank you."

 

"You're welcome," Chakotay replied. "Good night and sleep well." She nodded, before quickly entered Chakotay's room.

 

He began to absently kneed Kathryn's shoulders and after a moment chuckled, "I think Malakier got more than she bargained for when she first shanghaied us."

 

Kathryn returned his laughter softly. "That she did—but I think we all got more than we bargained for. Eighty light years in four hours, Chakotay," she said in an incredulous voice.

 

"Another turn of fortune's wheel," he said softly.

 

"What do you think of her hunches?" Kathryn asked rising slowly.

 

"I don't think she made it this far without listening to them," he answered. "As for what they mean? I don't know, but my people believe that there are those able to sense the change in the vagaries of time—when the lifting of a single finger or the loss of a blackbird's feather changes the course of history."

 

He smiled down at her as he realised why she seemed so hesitant about going to bed. "Why don't you turn in now, I'll be a little while."

 

She smiled gratefully and hugged him. "Thanks Chakotay," she said going up on her toes and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "Good night."

 

"Good night Kathryn," he answered as he released her.

 

He watched her enter her room with a wry smile. Gods … what he wouldn't give to take away that long, cold winter … Well, if this frustration was his punishment, he was luckier than he’d thought possible—she was testing her footing, step by step, slowly and carefully, which was fine with him. If only it was not so very … _excruciating_.

 

He spent a few more moments tidying up the worktable before going to the bathroom and changing into his pyjama pants and a light undershirt. She smiled at him in the dim moonlight when he entered and shifted to accommodate his body as he settled in, offering his arm as a pillow. She was wearing a modest peach satin set, with a long tunic and pants—not exactly the sexy little numbers of the previous summer, but not exactly the monk's robe either. And he decided, as she settled her arm across his chest, he could live with that.

 

****

 

"Chakotay, does my presence here bother you and Kathryn?" Malakier asked as they loaded the last of the ore into the shuttle. They had gone to the eastern mountain range for more trialurite and mesoquartzite, as well as titanium and other metals Kathryn had needed, while she'd stayed behind finishing Malakier's camouflage suit.

 

He looked at her in mild confusion, shielding his eyes in the afternoon light. "No, why would you think that?"

 

She leaned against the shuttle and looked at the craggy rock face for a moment. "It is just that I sense that there is a great sexual attraction between you, yet you act more like brother and sister than lovers," she said frankly. "I thought perhaps my presence here was inhibiting your expression of love for each other."

 

Chakotay chuckled heartily and patted her shoulder as he sat on the open hatch. "No Mala, you are definitely not inhibiting us—in fact, ironically your presence has brought us closer to each other than we have been in ten local months."

 

He studied her thoughtful face as she regarded him intently. "Kathryn is a person who is slow to reveal her heart. She does not love very easily, but when she does, it is a wonderful thing. When we were first stranded, it took her a while to accept that we could be here for the rest of our lives. While we were on _Voyager_ , I had fallen in love with her and I knew that she had feelings for me. But it was more complicated for her, given that she was the captain, and that she had left someone behind in the alpha quadrant that she loved deeply and had promised to marry. But eventually we did become lovers, and I have never met another woman so loving and giving. I don't want to betray her, because this is as much a matter for her privacy as for mine, but suffice it to say, I hurt her badly—worse than any person deserved to be hurt over what turned out to be a tragic mistake."

 

Chakotay took a deep breath. "She will tell you that she is as much to blame for what happened between us, but she's not. She may have been responsible for the initial misunderstanding, but she tried to rectify it as soon as she realised her mistake. No, it was my self-righteous fury, my arrogant belief in my own rightness that destroyed our relationship and her trust in me. Because of me, she spent the entire winter alone . . . six months alone in a nightmare that needn't have happened and for those six months I lived in the cave where we store the ore and the parts. During that time, she perfected the cloak and amazingly, found a cure for our disease. By the time I realised it, she had almost finished curing me."

 

He looked bleakly into the distance at the shadows the rocks cast in the waning sunshine. "You laughed the other day about how much weaker she is than we are—but she isn't. She may lack our physical endurance, because of sheer size and genetic make-up, but make no mistake, Malakier; she is the _strongest_ person I know. I destroyed her trust in me—during some of the darkest moments in her life, I wasn't there for her because I _chose_ not to be there. I chose not to listen to her explanation, so she endured alone and proved to be the type of person I'd always wanted to be, but failed.

 

"In the last four months, we've begun to rebuild slowly, as is her way; not that she dominates the relationship, but I've had to learn when to let her take the lead and guide me around obstacles I can't see. In the same way she allows me the lead with those obstacles I know best. I don't know how to explain our relationship better than that," he said with a roguish smile as he stood. "But I love her, I think she can learn to love me again and I have you to thank for getting me back into her bed again—it's been torture to hold her and not be able to do anything, but it's the sweetest torture I know."

 

Malakier laughed as she followed him into the craft. "You are welcome to your tortures. I wonder if other humans are as strange as you."

 

"Stranger," he quipped slipping into the pilot's seat, "much, much stranger."

 

****

 

"Master Solen, it is good to see you again," Malakier said from behind the Master Commander's own desk as he entered his office.

 

Solen looked at her in obvious shock then moved quickly without a word to the wall monitor to check the display. It showed nothing but an empty room.

 

"You have learned some new tricks, Mala," he said, regaining his composure. "Plunged Zenprata into chaos, and made some new friends I am told—a certain Trabe and Talaxian?" Chakotay studied the deceptively old, frail-looking man from his hiding place in the corner, cloaked in his camouflage suit. Kathryn had transported he and Malakier into the room, after the Master Commander had left for a moment, and she was currently monitoring them via Solen' own surveillance system. The Master Commander, Chakotay knew, was of the Rhondiran species—a small-stature, but surprisingly strong people—silver haired with prominent brow ridges and an extremely thick epidermis.

 

"Yes, well one must always expand one's horizons, make new friends, Solen," Malakier answered. "What news?"

 

"The usual," he replied sitting on the edge of the desk. "King Romol has bounty of fifty thousand credits open prize on you—one of those gunning for you is that fool, Kental. I shall need a new second to replace him. Whom do you suggest?"

 

"Dromarg," she replied smiling as she rose. "He has always been my choice for your second. In the meantime, I would like to hire him to guard Varix for the next fifty-five days—I will pay twenty now and another ten at the end of that time."

 

Solen nodded as she continued. "Varix will be making certain purchases for me for the next five days, and I would like to hire two other mercenaries to inspect and guard those purchases when they are delivered to the yard. Choose wisely, I will pay six thousand now and four at the end of the week to each. Finally, I would like to hire you personally to purchase a number of weapons for me," she said handing him the chip with the list, "the best Solen, very discretely—to be ready in fifty-five days. Fifteen million was transferred into an account with my Factors five minutes ago from which you may draw. Your fee is one point five million and it has been transferred into your account. Another million will follow in fifty-five days. I will contact you in forty-five days as to the location for the transfer of the weapons."

 

"Understood. You have become a veritable ghost, Mala," he said softly, fondly Chakotay thought, as he gently brushed a wisp of gold hair from her face. "Are these new friends worth it?"

 

"Yes," she replied.

 

"Then I must tell you that Culluh and the Nistrim are here looking for them. They arrived three days ago," he said seating himself behind his desk. "They have attempted to hire my people, but at the prices they were offering, everyone laughed in their faces. Still they did manage to get two young ones, Dis and his wife Lurit with the promise of alien technology from the woman, Seska. Their orders are to kill you and bring your two new friends to Culluh and Seska. Apparently, those jewels your friends sold came to Seska's attention since they are only found in her homespace. One of the shop keepers' surveillance caught them and she was able to recognise them despite their disguises."

 

Malakier nodded thoughtfully and Chakotay kept as still as possible trying not to react to the implications of Solen's news. "They are more of a nuisance than a hindrance. Where are they now?"

 

"At this hour? Where else but drinking, making noise like the great fools they are," he replied in disgust. "Culluh and his woman you will find at Pemar's. She cannot get rid of them. She only asks that you do not harm her or her customers. I can assume from the disappearance of your cargo from level eight, these new friends can help you in your search?"

 

"Yes."

 

"I am glad, Mala," he said softly. "Then this is to be goodbye."

 

"Yes," Malakier repeated. "If I have not returned in exactly one year, dating fifty-five days from now then the balance of my fortune goes to Byrillen, save for one point five million which has been put aside for Varix." Solen gasped in surprise as he gazed at the gold-skinned woman.

 

"Mala," he whispered.

 

"It is the least I can do for Byrilar's sake," she continued softly. "After all my purchases are complete, it will amount to five point five million—and if Varix were to die my friend, it would still remain the same amount. I would prefer, Solen—if as a favour to me—you would take it slowly at the gaming tables and leave him to his little shipyard. To him it will be paid in the form of a yearly allowance. He is getting old and slow, I simply wish him a good quality of life."

 

"Understood."

 

"Byrillen's will come to her in ten years," Mala said smiling fondly. "It is currently in the keep of the Gredan Banking Factors. By the time she comes of age, it will be anywhere from fifteen to twenty-five million. May I see her now? I have a goodbye gift I wish to deliver in person."

 

"Of course," he said hoarsely as he activated the comm system. "Byrillen, please come to my office. There is someone here to see you."

 

"Yes father," was the breathless reply.

 

"Think she knows?" Solen laughed.

 

Malakier grinned at him. "She is an observant child," she agreed.

 

"You are her sister you know, Mala," he said quietly. "That is the only reason I didn't object more strongly to Byrilar's decision—she always said you were her first child."

 

"Thank you," she returned as the door opened.

 

The ten-year-old girl who ran into the room reminded Chakotay strongly of the young prince, except for the spun silver hair and the softened brow ridges of her father's people. The confusion that happened next—as the child flung herself into Malakier's arms calling her name—never fully registered in Chakotay's mind. Suddenly a bright green flow of blood ran down the side of Malakier's face, and the child screamed as Malakier's hands stained bright red.

 

Chakotay didn't remember deactivating his camouflage as he automatically called Kathryn. "Chakotay to Janeway, I have a small child down," he said consulting his tricorder. "Stab wound to the chest . . . narrowly missed the heart."

 

"Understood," Kathryn replied.

 

"I am sorry, Mala," the little girl whispered through her tears.

 

"Shh," she soothed her as the whine of the transporter announced Kathryn's arrival. "Do not try to speak. Secure the room Solen—"

 

As the other man hesitated Malakier added in the most threatening voice Chakotay had ever heard her use. "Do it if you want Byrillen to live."

 

Solen moved to his desk to do as he was told and Chakotay thought he looked at that moment as if he was five hundred years old. Chakotay studied his tricorder readings, "Encodrazine will only act as a local anaesthetic, Kathryn, it won't put her out, and we don't have anything else compatible with her physiology readily available."

 

"Administer it," she ordered and then looked at the deep tissue repair instrument in her hand as he complied. "Byrillen, I want you to hold Malakier's hand and look only into her eyes, all right," she said softly and the little girl nodded and tightened her grip on Malakier. "Good girl," Kathryn encouraged. "This will only hurt a little. Chakotay, keep track of her cardiac functions and keep the stimulator ready."

 

He nodded as she worked quickly to repair the severed vessels and surrounding tissue. A few minutes later he breathed a sigh of relief as Kathryn ran the dermal regenerator over the wound and sat back on her heels, looking at the four of them. "Well, she's no longer in any danger. The blade missed the heart by a hair's breadth and just nicked a major vein, but we're lucky she's so young—she'll have no lasting damage or weakness. You should keep her quiet and resting for the next few days and check on her whenever possible. But I'll stay with her for the next hour. Now can anyone explain what happened here?"

 

"Thank you," Solen replied, stroking his daughter's hair. "It seems like my daughter has joined the ranks of those who have tried to kill the Great Malakier. Mala tried to pull her blow, but not fast enough."

 

"There was p-poison on the blade they gave me," the child whispered.

 

Chakotay began to scan Malakier but she waved him away impatiently. "It is only a scratch. Who did this Byrillen? Who gave you the blade? Why?" she asked her little sister in a heartbroken voice.

 

"Kental . . . and the priest he brought with him," she replied tearfully. "They said I would never join my mother at her place in the Afterlife if I did not do this; that I would never be allowed because my father makes my flesh impure. They said that if I did this in the name of the Great Maker, this priest would make me pure enough to enter the Realm of the Afterlife."

 

"They will be dead by morning," her father declared furiously as Malakier gathered the child gently to her. Kathryn directed her to take the little girl over to the sofa near the corner in which Chakotay had stood.

 

"Oh Byri," she said softly as she made the child comfortable. "That is what I came to tell you, little sister. I have to go away now, find my people and my friends here have agreed to help me as your mother once did. But I have a gift before I go my little Byrillen. The young prince has been taken to his grandmother and she will place him on the Holy Throne. When that happens, you and your father are to have a private audience in the Temple, and there he will bless you with the Great Father and Mother Priests as witness. I have the prince's own word on it, a Holy Writ with his seal, and these two proofs of your identity—your right to enter the Temple when you choose."

 

She drew from the bag made of the same cloaking material—a small box covered with some kind of black leather and opened it. Inside were a thin, iridescent wafer and a small scroll. The little girl sat up a little and looked at the items in awe. "This is your official pass into the Inner Sanctum of the Temple," Malakier said pointing to the wafer. "And this is a Holy Writ—it alone would be all the proof you need, for he inscribed it in his own hand for you."

 

Finally, Mala drew an old-fashioned letter written on parchment out and handed it to the child. "This is your official summons into the presence of the Prince. You may read it at your leisure, but I truly must be leaving soon and I must finish making plans. My friend Kathryn will stay with you for a while to make sure your wound heals properly, and I will return in a few days to say a proper goodbye."

 

"Can you forgive me, Mala?" she asked remorsefully. "I did not want to do it, but I could not face my life knowing I would never see my mother again," she cried softly.

 

"I forgive you, my little Byrillen and I will never be angry with you, little sister," Mala replied softly. "I understand why you did it, but my little sister, I think it would be best if you waited until you were much older before you decide to choose this profession. After all, have you not always said that you would become the Great Mother Priest? I think that is a much nobler thing to aspire to than to be a killer, little sister . . . a much nobler thing. I must go now and take your father with me for a few moments, but Kathryn will remain with you."

 

After a final hug, she drew Chakotay and Solen aside close to his desk as the little girl proudly showed Kathryn her summons.

 

"Solen, I need you to put as many of those things into motion as soon as possible," Malakier said. "This only heightens the amount of danger Varix is going to be in. After Dromarg is finished being personal bodyguard to Varix, I suggest that you offer him the position of personal guard and Master Instructor to Byrillen—draw up a contract with him to make him your second—Kental is as good as dead anyway. Ten years should be long enough to make Byri self-sufficient. Dromarg is an excellent teacher and as honourable as you are going to find. You also have the advantage of his love for her. As for Varix, simply let it be known anyone bothering him will have to go through you—I will have to take your word on that. I also want you to put as many of your people as you can spare in Pemar's establishment as soon possible . . . a good eight or ten, double fee for standard strong-arm tactics to go into play when I get there. Tell them that an inconspicuous presence and discretion is at the utmost importance and to wait for my signal to act. I am going to make sure that coward Culluh leaves my friends alone once and for all."

 

"It will be done," he replied heading for the door. As he opened it he hesitated and looked at his daughter with Kathryn.

 

"Do not worry," Malakier assured him. "I need to use your communication system—she will be safe until your return." He nodded and hurried out. "Chakotay, I think while Kathryn is here, you should return to _Sacajewa_ —at least until she is sure of Byrillen's healing. Do not worry, you have my word she is safe here, but we need you to keep an eye on the two ships and to work the transporters in case of an emergency. I will also be sending you some information that I will need the two of you to work on as soon as possible. I will not let her out of my sight, I promise, but with my ship in the condition it is in, you are more valuable there right now."

 

Chakotay nodded considering her logic. "All right, but keep an open comm-line at all times."

 

"Understood."

 

Chakotay took a last glance at Kathryn and returned her smile as he called, "Chakotay to _Sacajewa_ , one to transport."

 

****

 


	3. Manoeuvres & Counter-measures

"Are you finished, Kathryn, it looks like the show is about to begin," Chakotay said in a soft, dangerous-sounding voice. "We're getting a visual feed via Solen's surveillance system."

 

"And me without my pop-corn," Kathryn replied dryly, not taking her eyes away from the program she was running on her computer screen. "I don't know about this Chakotay. It all feels too much like I'm getting ready to watch a gladiatorial battle in a Roman arena."

 

"I know," he replied understandingly. "But she has promised to hurt only those who go after her. You heard what she said—classic strong arm tactics to make sure Seska and Culluh go away and not venture back into these parts until after we're gone. And Mala's right, Culluh is a coward. If this works, I doubt he will ever set foot here again despite all of Seska's goading."

 

"Well, I've uploaded the program into their systems," she said sitting down next to him in front of the wall viewscreen. She glanced at the small instrument in his hands. "It looks like the feed is coming in loud and clear."

 

Kathryn met his eyes and clasped his hand tightly in a show of support. Whatever happened, they were in it together all the way. They turned to watch Seska and Culluh in the middle of their friends in the bar, drinking noisily and making wild boasts about their prowess. Kathryn glanced at Chakotay's instrument again as a stream of biometric data began to scroll through and expelled her breath—the second part of the mission was accomplished. A few moments later Malakier walked in as if without a single care and went directly to the proprietor behind the bar.

 

On cue the Zenprata woman placed a small liqueur glass of a black liquid before her. "Malakier," she said loudly, respectfully.

 

"Pemar," Mala replied with a smile and placed a small package in the woman's hand—payment in advance for any damages. Pemar immediately handed the package to a young Talaxian male who left without opening it. The Kazon, noticing the silence that fell over the bar, looked at the gold-skinned newcomer and sneered, some beginning to laugh as they took in her deceptively slight build and youthful appearance. She picked up her drink and made her way to Culluh and Seska's table.

 

"You are Maje Culluh and Seska?" she asked pleasantly, dipping a gloved finger into the drink and sucking the tip. "I am told you wish to kill me. Is that correct?"

 

" _You_ are Malakier," Culluh replied sneering insultingly. The rest of the Kazon laughed uproariously as Seska watched warily.

 

"Yes, I am told by your pet killer, Dis, that you and your woman here gave him a measure of blackheart boar's venom to kill me with," she said, and the bar went silent again. "Is that not correct, Dis?"

 

The young man who entered was badly hurt, but moved under his own power. "That is correct, Malakier," he answered softly.

 

"You may go now; Solen is waiting for you," Malakier returned without looking at the boy. "As you saw the error of your ways and did not make the attempt, you may collect your wife, hand over your fee to the Master Commander and leave."

 

"Understood, Malakier. Thank you," he said and limped out.

 

"He will make an excellent farmer, do you not think?" Malakier quipped and the other non-Kazon patrons chuckled with genuine humour.

 

The instrument in Chakotay's hands beeped and they looked down at the results of the genomic analysis—Cardassian and Kazon. The child was Culluh's. Kathryn let out a breath of relief and looked at Chakotay. There was relief also in his eyes, but with it was a hint of sadness; he would have accepted any child of his into his heart, even Seska's. She hugged him tightly and he smiled at her and pressed the signal button twice—confirmation to Malakier that the child was Culluh's.

 

Their friend's smile became feral at the two bell-like tones and looked down at the two people seated before her. She dipped her finger again into her beverage and dribbled some onto her tongue. "This is eight measures of blackheart boar's venom," she said laughing. "Would any of you care to try some?"

 

Seska rose in alarm and tugged at Culluh's arm. "It's a trap," she said anxiously as she pulled her weapon.

 

"Yes it is," Malakier said softly; a man Kathryn recognised as Dromarg came down the stairs carrying the baby. Seska gave such a cry of rage and genuine fear, that Kathryn almost felt sorry for her. "Now I don't _like_ killing children, but I also have no qualms about killing their parents. Please, sit down, Seska; Maje, you have a cunning female. The Nistrim would be wise to kill you and make her Maje, but then, no one has ever accused the Kazon of being overly wise."

 

Kathryn couldn't help but laugh at the purple, impotent rage on the Kazon leader's face at the insult to Kazon manhood.

 

Malakier raised the glass to her lips and drained all but a few drops with a deadly smile on her lips. "Now Seska," she said withdrawing a small sample vial from her bag and pouring the rest of her drink into it. "I wish to return your measure of blackheart venom to you. I know how extremely _expensive_ it is. Perhaps you can find some better use for it."

 

Malakier handed Seska the vial and took the child from Dromarg, tickling under its chin with a smile. "You have a fine healthy son Seska, no genetic defects that I could find. Maje Culluh, have you so many sons or such little regard for their safety that you would bring this one into a den of killers?"

 

As she spoke, ten men and women stood—weapons in each hand pointed at a table of Kazons. Malakier tickled the child again and he gurgled before she settled him in Seska's arms.

 

"I would suggest, Seska, you forget about all my Trabe and Talaxian friends; they are no concern of yours. There are many that would love to get their hands on you, give some payback to the Kazon Nistrim. However, I made a promise not to do any killing tonight," Malakier said, her face close to Seska's. "Would you like to guess to whom?"

 

Seska made to speak, but Malakier placed her finger on her lips and the Cardassian recoiled in horror. Malakier looked at her finger in amusement and straightened. "I am so sorry—almost broke my promise, but I often _forget_ that other species are so very weak. No need for you to say anything, Seska, we both know of whom I speak. However, although you may go, it does not mean you are by any means free. The Talaxian authorities are waiting to collect the exit fee of ten thousand credits, and I think you should hurry. I have a feeling that your people will be calling you soon to tell you of a certain problem with the warp cores of your ships in orbit around Teerixi—namely that all warp systems on all ships have failed."

 

Culluh gaped at her in horror as she continued in an implacable voice. "I have also taken the liberty of contacting your fellow Majes of the Hobi, the Mistral and the Vistik about this troublesome problem; perhaps they can render some aid. No doubt the Trabe and Talaxians here will do the same with their people once they find out—you should have all the _help_ you need in a few hours, so I suggest you leave as quickly as possible," she finished nastily.

 

Kathryn watched as the Kazon rose warily in face of the mercenaries' weapons and hurried to the exit. As Culluh walked slowly to the door with Seska, he nodded slightly to his left.

 

"Not very subtle is he?" Kathryn said. She did no look away from the screen as Malakier moved with blinding speed to burn a hole in the Kazon warrior's chest. The other mercenaries' fire was superfluous as the man went down without a sound or firing a single shot. Culluh looked wildly at Malakier as he backed up towards the door.

 

"Not very," Chakotay confirmed grimly. "We're going to have to teach her about stun settings."

 

"Culluh," Malakier called in warning. "If you ever think of setting foot here again, I suggest you remember the Poirolton Mercenaries of Teerixi and their friends. So start running now—and when you stop running, don't stop looking over your shoulder, because when you do, you will die."

 

"She certainly has a flair for the dramatic," Chakotay quipped as the Kazon literally fell over each other to get out of the bar. "How long do you think it will take Seska to figure out your tapeworm?"

 

"Four or five weeks," she answered, moving back to the controls of the shuttle. "I almost regret making it so virulent; I had no idea Malakier would call the other Kazon sects."

 

"A bit of overkill," Chakotay agreed. "But at least it ensures they won't come looking for us any time soon. In any case, word will spread quickly that the Nistrim is vulnerable and it will take all they have to keep ahead of the wolves, but Seska has proven time and again that she's good at evading punishment. It looks like Mala is on the move back to the Master Commander's office."

 

"How easily she moves about in this world, Chakotay," Kathryn said softly. "I wonder if whoever left her in that cave had any inkling of the life they were abandoning her to face? Her reflexes, an ability to metabolise enough poison to kill an army, her incredible adaptability and long life—I wonder how much of that is natural to her people."

 

"Everything about her is engineered towards her survival—there must be something very important about her to go through all that trouble to conceal her," he said speculatively. "I only hope that taking her away from this region is the right thing to do. What if someone comes looking for her?"

 

"It's something she decided to do long before she met us, Chakotay," Kathryn answered. "And considering the life she's been living, I think for her it's the right thing to do. She recognised her need to know if she was meant for more than this life of a hired killer and she won't find any answers by staying here."

 

****

 

Kathryn stopped short as she entered the engineering bay of Malakier's little ship and looked absently over the railing of the catwalk to the floor below. A small sob caught her attention, and it was a moment before she located its source. Malakier knelt beside the almost featureless pod they had brought on board earlier that day, her upper body lay across its smooth, tan-coloured surface, and her arms open wide. She and Chakotay had taken a few readings on it and how it reacted to the young woman as she lay inside, automatically moulding itself to her contours, cradling her safely in its womb. They were even more convinced that it was an organism of some kind, but had no clue as to its nature.

 

Malakier had been right; it was almost impervious to their sensors—only barely registering a subspace signature in the upper registers of the extreme limits of the shuttle's sensors. She would have to give serious thought about sensor recalibration when she got some time.

 

As she turned to leave before intruding further on this private moment of vulnerability, she heard the girl whisper in anguish, "What are you? Please tell me what you are."

 

****

 

Byrillen entered the office with her father. Kathryn could see that she was subdued and a bit hesitant this time.

 

"Byrillen," Malakier said softly. "I must say goodbye now, little sister."

 

The little girl ran to her and Malakier scooped her up tightly. "I will always remember you, Mala, she said sobbing wildly. "I will always love you, elder daughter of my mother."

 

"And I will always love you, younger daughter of my mother," Malakier answered, equally tearful. She drew two golden chains from her pocket, one with a pendant made of a golden-yellow lobi crystal, the other with a blue crystal. She placed the yellow one around Byrillen's neck and donned the blue one. "We may never see each other again, but we can have something to remember each other by." She hugged the little girl again, and then released her, "Goodbye, study hard and be wise."

 

"Goodbye, Mala, may your search be fruitful," she replied taking Solen's hand.

 

"Goodbye," Malakier said softly. "Solen, we will contact you in forty-five days. Take care of yourself and her." The Master Commander nodded as she called out, "Malakier to _Sacajewa_ , two to transport."

 

"Stand by," Chakotay answered.

 

As they materialised on the transporter pad, she turned against the bulkhead, her shoulders shaking. Kathryn touched her shoulder calling gently, "Malakier?"

 

She turned into Kathryn's embrace, crying bitterly, "I never expected it to be so hard to say goodbye."

 

"I know," Kathryn whispered stroking her hair. "I know."

 

****

 

Malakier gave a bitter smile as she pulled the last piece of the weapon array assembly from the hull of her ship and looked at the piece of metal in her hand sadly. Her ship, which Byrilar had so carefully maintained for so many years, was now a gutted, rusted hulk. It had barely limped to New Earth—developing problems along the way that even a wizard like Kathryn had had trouble keeping up with.

 

Granted, in the last few years she had not carried as much cargo as she had been laden with on her final journey. Now she rested in an open field behind the small house and in a few days the shuttle would tow her to tumble aimlessly in the depths of space, returning with another hulk that they would rebuild. She was also getting a "crash course" as Chakotay put it in the inner mechanics of starship systems.

 

Malakier could still remember their outraged astonishment at her sheer ignorance of what they considered most basic knowledge; unfailingly polite, they had tried to hide that outrage, but their surprise had been too great. She knew what buttons to press to make something go, but she had not a clue about how most things actually worked. Undaunted they had gone about rectifying the holes in her education with a hands-on, learn as you go attitude and even from the start, they had not made her feel stupid about the inordinate number of questions she needed to ask about the simplest things.

 

She looked at the house again with the windows at the back, which looked into Kathryn and Chakotay's—and well her own—bedroom. Despite Chakotay's explanation, she still felt that she was inhibiting their relationship in some way. Although he slept with Kathryn, because she was in such close proximity, they probably wouldn't feel it was private enough to indulge even if they had wanted to. Lying against the hot hull, she let her mind drift, wondering what could have been so terrible to cause such a rift between them; Chakotay was such a gentle man. What mistake could Kathryn have made to arouse such wrath that he would consider leaving her alone for six months?

 

"Malakier?" A voice jerked her back to her senses and she growled, furious at herself for letting herself be caught up in her daydreams here in the open.

 

Kathryn chuckled and looked up at her in the fading afternoon light. "My, you wake up a tad grumpy, don't you? I didn't mean to startle you. Chakotay and I only wanted to know if you were up for a swim."

 

Malakier caught sight of him rounding the side of the house before he disappeared from view, and she slid down the front of the ship to land on her feet next to Kathryn.

 

"Sorry," she replied. "I should not allow myself to daydream like that—but in this place..."

 

"In this place, you don't have to be on your guard twenty-four hours a day," Kathryn finished softly. "It's alright to allow yourself to dream Mala—or just to let your mind float." She grinned as Malakier picked up the box of weapon's array parts and walked back to the house with her. "What do you think I do in the bathtub each night," she quipped.

 

"You are thinking—"

 

Kathryn laughed heartily. "Now who is the innocent Mala? I think about a few things, but mostly I just let my mind drift from one daydream to another—and that's a good thing. It clears the cobwebs and clouds from my mind and I can then look at a problem from a fresh perspective."

 

"I have never had time to dream," she whispered as she set down the box, and then smiled up at Kathryn. "I never could relax enough to, but that is changing."

 

"Well swimming is a great way to relax," said Chakotay from behind her. She rose and turned to face his smiling eyes. "Since you ladies are so slow, I'm off—see you there."

 

Kathryn laughed as he made his way down the path, her gaze lingering lovingly on his back as he disappeared and Malakier had to admit he had a very fine physique. She caught a scent of strong desire as her friend moved past into the house, and it brought back her musings of a little while earlier.

 

Malakier looked around her small room as she entered and began to change into the skimpy swimsuit the humans wore—really, it was like wearing nothing at all, yet there was this strange modesty they continued to uphold. Only a few of the things in the room were hers, the rest Chakotay's, having nowhere else to put them—strange things that obviously meant a lot to him. She heard the soft rustle of Kathryn moving around in her room even without employing her sense of hearing to its most acute. No, in many ways beyond just the physical, they were fragile creatures and when it came to their emotions regarding love and lovemaking, they were more fragile than most. They desired each other strongly and she was in the way, inhibiting the expression of their desires. If they were already on board the ship, they would each have their own suite of rooms; her own would separate from theirs on one side of the ship just behind the kitchen and mess.

 

"Are you ready to go?" Kathryn called.

 

She gathered up her towel quickly and hurried out into the living room. "Sorry," she apologised as they left the house. "I do not know why, but I feel inordinately slow and melancholic today—I suppose it's seeing my ship in this condition. I remember the day Byrilar and I bought her fifteen years ago; Kathryn, I know this may sound like a foolish desire—"

 

She stopped dead on the path and Kathryn over shot her by a few steps

 

"What is it?" the human woman asked turning in concern.

 

"I would like to spend the next few nights on board her," she said softly. "Sometimes in the empty, gutted corridors, I see the ghost of how she looked that day fifteen years ago, and I feel like Byrilar is at my side. Does that seem foolish? I feel that someone should be with her before we take her out, although I know for all practical intents, she is just a skin of metal wrapped around an energy source."

 

Kathryn smiled sympathetically. "No, it doesn't seem foolish at all," she answered. "I've always felt that ships were living, breathing entities. My ship before _Voyager_ was decommissioned. She was simply too old to upgrade, over half a century, so I know what you're talking about. I also spent some time alone on board her, saying goodbye before she was taken to be recycled. I know exactly how you feel—she's served you well for many years, so no, it doesn't seem foolish at all."

 

"Thank you for understanding," she said as they resumed their walk.

 

"It's about time you two got here," Chakotay called from the middle of the river. "What took you so long? I was about to send George here in search of you."

 

Kathryn laughed as the little primate chattered from his accustomed perch. "Hello, Curious George," she called as she and Malakier entered the water. "Are you happy to see us? I bet you're wondering what that structure we've put down in your clearing is." George chattered furiously, shaking his hands in the air. "Sorry we didn't consult you before hand—a slight oversight on our part, it won't happen again."

 

Malakier watched this exchange in amazement, as Kathryn appeared to listen again to the primate.

 

"All right, impatient aren't we—don't worry, it's only for a little longer, I promise. Honestly—although I dare say another will take its place soon." George chittered a parting shot and took off into the forest as Kathryn turned to her more sentient companions.

 

"She really gets into it doesn't she?" Chakotay commented with a charmed look in his eyes.

 

Malakier nodded and chuckled softly as she threaded water against the current. "Do you really think he can understand you, Kathryn?"

 

"No, but it's a fun thing to do," she answered returning their laughter. "Besides, he always has such an intelligent look—who knows what he understands."

 

"Definitely a strange species," she commented just as she felt Chakotay reach for her feet. She dove quickly to get away from him, only to have Kathryn dunk her head as she bobbed up. She caught Kathryn around the waist and drew her down, remembering in time that it was simply a game and loosened her grip as she looked into her friend's watery face.

 

When she rose to the surface again, Chakotay had Kathryn in his arms above his head as she kicked and squealed, lashing out at him ineffectively. Malakier quickly pulled his legs out from under him, laughing at his surprise as he went under, dropping Kathryn in a resounding splash. She watched them bob to the surface and turn to face her with identical smiles that spoke of their friendly revenge as they advanced on her. She gasped as they both jumped on her—she relaxed and went down under their combined weight, trusting them to pull her up again.

 

Later that night she watched the two shadows come together in the moonlight streaming through the windows of Kathryn's bedroom, and quickly climbed into her ship, bedding down on the bridge, which was open beneath the stars.

 

****

 

Kathryn watched the front door of the shelter close behind Melakier as the young woman took her bedding out to her ship. The room lapsed into unbearable silence again. Would he make the first move, she wondered, and then decided that he wouldn't. She rose and took their teacups to the sink, needing something to do.

 

Turning back to him, she studied his chiselled profile; _it's up to you, Kathryn_.

 

It was surprisingly easy once she made the decision to let go—to let go of the hurt, the recriminations . . . the fear.

 

He looked up as she held her hand out to him. He clasped her hand gently and followed her into the bedroom. Turning into him, she reached up and brought his head down to kiss him hungrily. He wrapped his arms across her back and pulled her closer. She moaned as his mouth dipped into the curve of her neck, seeking that sensitive spot as she straddled his thigh. Her skirt bunched up between them, one of the buttons down the front adding to the delightful friction.

 

Kathryn played her fingers through his long locks as he opened her blouse and lifted her breasts over the cups of her bra. He took his time laving and sucking each nipple to a stiff, pebbled peak.

 

She moaned loudly and pushed back from him. He let her go.

 

She stared at him from beneath hooded lids; her lips were swollen—her breasts glistened in the pale moonlight. A low growl came from deep in her throat as she rushed into him, propelling him down across the bed. His arms went about her waist and pulled her down on top of him.

 

Kathryn's lips were on his again, her kisses bruising and hungry. Somewhere in some deep recess, she wondered who this person was—this feral wanton who was now forcing his hands up above his head even as one knee roughly parted his dangling legs. With one foot firmly planted on the floor, she rubbed her other thigh savagely against his erection as she leaned over him. A cry escaped him as he stared up at her in surprise. And as the surprise faded, she saw only absolute trust.

 

She pulled his t-shirt off over his head; he made no effort to help her or to lower his arms. Climbing off him again, she held his gaze and saw his relief as she released the pressure against his rigid cock. But before he could fully relax, she grabbed his pyjama pants and underwear and pulled them down in one fluid motion; his hips lifted automatically. His magnificent penis lay twitching across his muscled thigh. She feathered her fingers along its hard length and head, and was rewarded with a hiss of intense pleasure that made his face screw up almost in pain.

 

Kathryn wondered distantly again at her wanton actions, her aggressiveness—this need to dominate him. Still no words passed between them. Though no bonds held his hands above his head, he didn't lower them or attempt to touch her. He watched her trustingly and suddenly she didn’t know what to do. She was dressed; he lay naked and vulnerable before her and it occurred to her that she wanted to tell him something—to show him something.

 

She caught the hem of her skirt and with deliberate slowness, undid each button, but when she reached the last button on the waistband, she stopped, reached under the skirt and hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties instead. The undergarment slipped over her hips and down her thighs; she let them go and stepped out of them.

 

Squatting between his thighs, she ran her tongue along his length and heard his indrawn breath as she teased the tip of the velvet helmet already weeping salty pre-cum. Rising again, she slipped one hand under each of his calves and grabbed his legs. He stared at her in renewed confusion as she lifted them off the ground and slowly bent both his legs until his knees were up in the air. Pushing Chankotay's thighs further apart, she stepped back, leaving him exposed.

 

Kathryn saw a flush of humiliation flow across his face and prayed that he understood—but she didn't quite understand herself. He didn't break eye contact.

 

****

 

Chakotay lay on his back, feeling completely—horribly—exposed and vulnerable under Kathryn's steady gaze. And suddenly, he knew.

 

He knew that this, by some small measure, was what it was like to be a woman, to lie exposed beneath a man—awaiting invasion. He knew that there was a thin line between lovemaking and violation . . . and that line was trust.

 

Chakotay held her gaze. He felt her slim fingers encircle his straining member, stroking it gently a few times, but not enough to make him come. He felt her knee push into his lower abdomen as she leaned forward over him and pressed down. Suddenly the head of his penis was slipping past her wet vulva and deep into her vagina.

 

His first instinct was to let his legs drop, but she quickly halted their descent with surprising strength and pushed his knees farther apart. Chakotay gasped again as she removed her bent knee from his abdomen and stood between his legs, his cock firmly buried in her—straining at such an exquisite angle, he knew that he would explode given the slightest provocation. Then she leaned forward with her hands braced against the backs of his thighs and again the pressure eased, only to be concentrated in his balls trapped between their bodies.

 

Kathryn stood still, gazing down into his eyes; he wanted to come, but he knew that he wouldn't unless she allowed him to. After a few more minutes of absolute stillness, in which he hovered for an eternity on the edge of an unfathomable chasm, she began slowly to move up and down on his cock, rocking against him.

 

The sensations were exquisite—mind-blowing—yet he didn't come . . . couldn't ejaculate. Her face blurred; he was swimming in an ocean of pure emotions. He felt the tears flowing unashamedly down his cheeks, yet couldn't seem to understand cognitively that he was crying. He was aware of everything; every fold and crease in the rough fibre of her denim skirt against his groin, the rub of one cold metal button against his ass—the maddening caress of her hair brushing his belly with almost every movement.

 

All he could think of was the orgasm pounding like a hurricane inside of him—spiralling—not up to greater heights, but downwards in ever tightening circles like a great maelstrom sucking his soul down into the abyss.

 

Chakotay heard the hoarse sobs . . . the cries of, "Please . . . please . . . pleeeeeaassse!!!" the desperate ragged gasps for air and knew they were his own. He couldn't tell any more where he began and she ended. He was drowning in her—couldn't seem to fill his lungs with enough air. And although he knew it was impossible—that he was the one with the penis inside her—Kathryn plundered his insides . . . filling him with every thrust and leaving him bereft each time she drew back, while he lay helpless beneath her.

 

But finally her pace changed. He could feel her urgency now as she raced down . . . down . . . down . . . into the depths where the pressure built and built and built until one eternal, searing impossible moment, he exploded and lay eviscerated beneath her. She collapsed onto his chest sobbing brokenly.

 

****

 

They lay together in an exhausted tangle of limbs; their bodies were cold with sweat—skin sticking together. Kathryn had one leg thrown over his hip—her arm around him and her head nestled trustingly on his shoulder as she slept.

 

Chakotay hadn't known what to expect that night—if they could return to their former passionate affair. Now he had his answer, there was no going back, only forward, deeper . . . deeper than they'd ever been, than he'd thought it possible to go between them. This was no longer an affair; they couldn't resume anything so shallow again. She had pulled him into depths, fathoms deeper than he had ever allowed himself to go before, made love with him over and over, showing him such absolute trust and teaching him so much _about_ trust. Each time he had felt that he couldn't possibly go any deeper on a single breath, she had tested his endurance again—pulling him impossibly farther until he knew at last, there was no bottom to love's ocean.

 

He kissed her hair gently and chuckled inwardly at their awkwardness after Malakier had taken her bedding out to the ship. He'd wondered what she would do—if after the last few weeks of holding her each night she would send him back to his bed, his arms empty again. After a few minutes of excruciating silence, she had risen, taken their teacups to the kitchen sink and returned, holding her hand out to him.

 

He had looked into her eyes, unsure of what he would find there—forgiveness? No, only love.

 

They had both made terrible mistakes, but there was still love between them. Lovemaking had been different than before, but in ways he couldn't quite put into words. The fire was still there, but not the wild, roaring flame that only scorched the outside and would burn out quickly. It was a steady flame that touched the inside as well as the outside and was consumed slowly so that even the dying embers still held much warmth against the cold.

 

She gave a small moan as he feathered his fingers lightly up and down her spine, and smiled as she awakened.

 

"Who was it that said we should get some rest?" she queried peering at him with only one eye opened. "I seem to remember someone saying he was very tired—extremely exhausted, I think is how he put it."

 

He pulled her to lie on top of him and she laughed and kissed his lips lightly as she ran her fingers through his lustrous, shoulder-length black locks. Both of them had let their hair grow much longer than it had been on _Voyager_ , her own thick auburn mane was well past her ass. He brushed her hair away from her face and traced the outline of her lips.

 

"I want to tell you something," he whispered and her expression became serious as she looked down into his eyes. "I thought we could go back to what we had before, but we can't—we can only go forward into whatever is waiting for us in the future. Each time I hold you, I think I can't fall in love any more deeply than I have, and each time, I go a little deeper and it scares me, Kathryn. Even before, last summer when I got caught in those currents that threatened to pull me down into those depths, I always managed to surface and pull you up with me.

 

"Tonight I couldn't. All I could do was to make the journey down with you, trust you to sustain me, breathe for me when I couldn't, as you trusted me to do the same for you. I've had a lot of relationships in my life, but I've always been able to remain close to the surface, where I know I can come up for air when I choose, breathe on my own, and not have the responsibility for breathing for someone else. But there are so many wonders of the deep one misses by staying only at the surface—so much beauty, Kathryn, I don't think I ever knew what it was like to truly touch another's soul," he finished softly as she wiped the tears from his cheeks. He understood now why she cried when she made love.

 

"I love you," she said softly.

 

"I love you," he replied.

 

After a moment she chuckled and said, "I think our perceptive gold-skinned friend had an ulterior motive for leaving tonight. Oh, how I ached for you this evening, watching you walk down to the river," she confessed playfully.

 

"You want to talk about aching?" he asked. "Why do you think I spent so much time in the water, I'm as wrinkled as a prune—it's not as easy for guys to hide their desires as it is for you ladies, especially when you're wearing nothing but a pair of brief swim trunks. I have yet to learn how you managed to do this to me even in the cold water. And I think you're right about Malakier. A few days after she came, she asked me if her presence was inhibiting the progression of our relationship in some way. She said that although she could sense our desire, we acted more like brother and sister—I think we offended her sensibilities."

 

Kathryn's laughter bubbled up and she buried her face in his shoulder. "I can assure you, Chakotay, there hasn't been a sisterly thought in my head for the last month." She raised her head and looked into his eyes still grinning widely. "Malakier the Matchmaker—I think that's a good title for her tonight." Her expression grew a little more serious again, rueful almost as she said, "I think our Mala is even more of a tinker and fixer of broken things than her Byrilar was."

 

"You're right," he replied softly. "At first I thought it was our influence, but those last days, as I watched her interact with Solen and little Byrillen, I knew that it's the way she is. Her advice to Solen about arranging for Dromarg to become his second, counting on Dromarg's affection for the child to hold his loyalty, is sound advice. What she did for Byrillen, exacting that promise from the prince, is something she did because it was in her nature. I realised she'd probably always been that way to some extent with people she loved. It's just that most people only saw the consequences of her profession."

 

Kathryn moved to sit up beside him. "It all makes me wonder if she isn't lonely. We've heard her talk about her friends, those who became her family, but she has never said anything about her lovers. That offer she made when we first met her, about going to Culluh, playing on his predilection for exotic females to get a genetic reading of the child, is the only time she has ever mentioned anything sexual in context with herself. I think that she would have been long gone before Culluh could try anything."

 

Chakotay frowned as he thought about what she said. "Could it be her relative youth—developmentally I mean. If she is still as adolescent as we think, that might explain some of it. You said it yourself when you explained your sister's reaction to making love for the first time—intellectually she may know all about it and the mechanics of how it works, but emotionally, she may not be ready for it at all; she may simply be too immature. That coupled with the fact that she's the only one of her species here, may leave her with a heightened sense of vulnerability where love and sex is concerned; a vulnerability she would feel she couldn't afford, especially with her lifestyle. Even at this day and age in the Federation, for humans over 90% of first relationships are with members of our own species," he grinned and kissed her fingertips.

 

Kathryn raised an eloquent eyebrow at his pronouncement and he laughed.

 

"Professor Halloran's class on Xenosexuality—she was big on statistics. But the point is—the advantage of socialisation with members of our own species during such a critical stage in our lives is important. Even later, it's important when dealing with alien species, socially and sexually. How hard would it be to be able to trust someone as implicitly as one must during love-making, when that person is so different from you, and may have a whole different set of instinctive cues than you would possess."

 

She lay down in his arms again as she answered ruefully, "It was hard enough for me to get started with a member of my own species and it's hard enough to have a relationship even when you have all the proper cues. I remember wondering how Kes and Neelix did it when we first met them—talk about mismatched cues," she giggled, thinking about the exquisite, tiny Ocampa and her exuberant, roly-poly little Talaxian lover. "But I also remember thinking that day in my ready-room when they asked to stay, that although it was mostly her curiosity, he would probably think it was an equally wonderful idea if she had suggested he follow her into the heart of a star."

 

"I guess we'll just have to muddle through it somehow, unless she finds someone along the way willing to follow her to destination unknown simply because he or she loves her," he whispered. He kissed her gently on the lips again as he turned on his side and pulled her closer to him.

 

****

 

"All right Chakotay, the emergency generator is fine and the cloaking field has stabilised," Kathryn called releasing the seals of her environmental suit's helmet as Malakier did likewise. "The bridge is sealed and atmosphere containment is normal, but we'll remain in the suits for the trip."

 

"I hope you realise that's going to take eight hours," he laughed over the comm system.

 

"Don't worry," she replied. "As long as we take it nice and slow, we'll remain cloaked and do just fine. Mala and I will see what repairs we can make to the bridge systems after we have lunch. Keep us updated on the status of the cloak on your end."

 

"Understood," he replied. "Locking on tractor beam now . . . all systems normal . . . all right ladies, just sit back and enjoy the ride. Thank you for flying Air Chakotay."

 

Kathryn groaned audibly. "B'Elanna warned me your jokes were bad, but I don't think she realised the full extent of the pain they could cause," she complained good-humouredly."

 

"Never underestimate the power of a bad joke," he returned laughing. "See you soon, Chakotay out."

 

Kathryn chuckled again as the channel went dead and turned to her friend. "Well let's have lunch before we tackle this mess," she said opening the picnic hamper as Mala eagerly spread a cloth on the deck. "Hungry are we?" Kathryn quipped.

 

"Starving," Malakier laughed as she reached for the juice. "I do not understand it, but my appetite has increased nearly three-fold since I have known you. I have always been able to survive on very little or nothing—now I find myself waiting anxiously for my next meal."

 

"I used to be the same way; it's the fresh air," Kathryn laughed as she dug into her casserole. "And it helps that Chakotay is such a good cook—he makes eating into a wonderful experience."

 

"Maybe he will teach me to cook," Malakier said smiling. "I have never really cared about what I put in my mouth, as long as I could get some type of nutrition from it—and I can from most things—but I could not describe the taste of most things I eat. As long as it was not moving—usually," she amended laughing, "then I ate it."

 

Kathryn grimaced and hooted her laughter. "Sometimes I didn't even have that to say about Neelix's cooking. Imagine trying to spear something on your plate with a fork and having it sort of slither away. I had to make it a standing order that he made sure whatever he served was well and truly dead _before_ he got it into the pot. As for learning to cook, I'd say go for it—poor Chakotay despaired of ever teaching me more than how to boil water a long time ago. Now he trusts me to make salads and at most, steam some vegetables, but anything more than that and even you would be taking your life into your own hands eating my concoctions. I think he'd relish having a new student."

 

"I will ask him when we get home," she replied and Kathryn smiled. It was the first time Malakier had ever referred to New Earth as home. "However, I do not know when I will get a chance to learn with all the repairs we must make."

 

Kathryn reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "You can't work every hour of every day Mala. Remember what we discussed about having time to dream—you have to take time for yourself, even at a time like this when we seem to be racing the clock. It may seem pointless on the surface, like it's a waste of time, but the rewards are things you can't put a price on. It doesn't even have to be cooking; my sister, Phoebe, is a visual artist, and for some time I've been thinking of taking up painting, something to just to free the imagination when your mind is overloaded with technical, workday things. Chakotay carves things, makes pottery or does his sand painting—sometimes he just sits and meditates on his spirit guide. I think it's that spirituality you sensed in him that day you told us about your craft and how you and Byrilar found it. It's as an important part of him as his eyes or ears are—he saw the possibilities for this ship long before I did."

 

"That is what you are both always looking forward to—possibilities," she replied softly. "I wish I had your sense of optimism, your capacity to dream."

 

"You already do," Kathryn replied. "Just don't think about it too much—you are capable of dreaming great things—like a future for Byrillen, Solen and even Toden. You have a greater capacity for dreaming than you think—"

 

"Chakotay to Janeway. Kathryn check the calibration of the Tarok lines, I'm getting some bleed-off from the aft-starboard emitters."

 

Kathryn grinned and made her way to the control panel, "We'll do—hang on." Her eyes twinkled at Malakier. "No rest for the wicked," she quipped as she busied herself with the controls.

 

****

 


	4. Time and Tides and Dreams

"I suppose you'll want to bless engineering, when we're done here?" Kathryn giggled as they entered her suite of rooms on the salvaged ship.

 

Chakotay's laugh was low and passionate between kisses. "I don't want to miss an inch of this ship, it's too important. Your rooms, my rooms, engineering—we want the warp core to work well don't we? And airponics—we need the food to grow well for nourishment—"

 

"Weapon's bay—" she laughed.

 

"Need to shoot straight," he said as she moaned.

 

"Shuttle bay?" she gasped, and then moaned again.

 

It was a moment before he answered in a laboured voice, "To ensure proper docking each time."

 

"Docking—oh yes... oh... oh... oh yes! Bridge!" she shouted and then dissolved into a series of long drawn out moans again.

 

"I've always . . . wanted to bless . . . bridge . . . with you! From the . . . first . . . moment I . . . saw . . . you . . . at the . . . Array . . ."

 

Their voices were lost in series of incoherent cries and moans as Malakier lay writhing in the access tunnel beneath Kathryn's bedroom. As if of their own volition, her hands roamed her body—trying to touch everywhere at once—her skin felt like it was on fire. Her hands found their way underneath her tank top to fondle her small breasts. A low groan came from the back of her throat—her tongue felt curiously swollen and heavy. The sensitive mounds of her breasts hardened under her touch, not just the nipples.

 

Startled, she pulled her hands away and looked at them. They glowed faintly in the dim lighting of the tunnel. Malakier sat up and looked down at her exposed breasts beneath the bunched up tank top—a wave of luminescence, brighter than the glow of her hands, rippled beneath her skin, leaving an intense sense of pleasure in its wake. With curious fascination, she brought her hand up to one stiff peak again, barely caressing it. Another bright wave spread from the epicentre of her nipple, rippling across her gold skin, only to be hidden by her clothes and again there was breathtaking pleasure. She turned her head to gaze at her reflection in the metal bulkhead; her face glowed like a jewel from the heart of a sun.

 

Low, primal moans from rooms above registered again— _Kathryn!_ —and another wave of luminescent pleasure flowed over Melakier in response, passing over her face, down her neck, across her torso and down into her groin. She stiffened in reflex, arching her back—her skin suddenly felt too tight to contain her body. As the wave passed, another built and she collapsed again onto her back. Her hands resumed their explorations of her body, pushing away clothing, eager to get at her naked skin.

 

Faster and faster, the waves of luminescence propogated all over her body—her hands tried to trace their paths over her suddenly hot skin. But although the waves seemed to converge in her lower abdomen, causing it to throb with an intense—almost painful—pleasure, she couldn't bear to touch herself there.

 

She'd always known that she more than just looked different; she was different. Other humanoid females like Kathryn or Byrilar were built along the same lines, with defined sex parts—labia, clitoris, vagina and attendant internal organs. She'd always been smooth, sexless, with just a urinary pore for the excretion of tiny amounts of liquid wastes—her body was very efficient and economical with the food and water she took in.

 

Now, Malakier felt like she was burning up, and the centre of the roaring furnace was in her belly, a little higher on her abdomen than where a human female's sex would be—it was as if something was burning its way from the inside out. Finally, she couldn't stand the sensations anymore—the pleasure/pain that held her in its thrall. Whimpering, she brought one hand down to her abdomen, to feel the small, oval mound that was swelling perceptably beneath her skin. It was hot, feverish beneath her touch, but even that gentle caress sent the luminescent waves of pleasure coursing through her.

 

Somewhere beneath the pleasure, she felt the sudden panic of a bird fluttering against its prison cage. She wanted to run to Kathryn, have her run tests—beg her to remove the tumor or whatever it was—but something in her mind and told her that it wasn't a tumor or parasite that was growing beneath her skin. She ran her fingers along the thin ridge that was now developing down the long axis of the mound and the pleasure increased almost unbearably. She was crying now, wanting to stop, but still she stroked it, hard and firm along the ridge … up and down, faster and faster—until … her back arched off the floor.

 

The pleasure/pain throbbing was blinding; hoarse, guttural cries tore at her throat. It felt like something was tearing her open from the inside. And suddenly she felt it burst open in a torrent of pure pain—as if great hands were splitting her in half—turning her inside out. She collapsed again onto the hard grille-work floor of the access tunnel, great sobs shaking her body as she tried to assimilate what had just happened to her. Timidly, one hand ventured down to her naked belly to touch the contours of the delicate orchid that had just blossomed there. She laughed; a low delighted chuckle. She was no longer sexless.

 

Suddenly Malakier understood—her body was taking its first steps to sexual maturity. All this time, she hadn't even been adolescent in humanoid terms. Exhausted, she curled up, one hand covering her new sex protectively and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, unconcerned that that someone would find her gently glowing body half-naked, her pants and underwear hanging off one ankle, her left breast exposed.

 

#

 

When Malakier woke again, she took stock of her body. Her skin was back to normal, the glow was gone, as was the tight, "bursting-at-the-seams", feeling she'd experienced. Sitting up, her back braced against the wall, she explored her newly developed sex. It was closed, the edges of the lips pressed together to form a stiff, puckered ridge—again, it wasn't like what she knew of other humanoids. With fingers on either side of the lips, she tried to pry it open, but the lips wouldn't come apart.

 

She smiled and ran her fingers along the ridge of tissue. Waves of pleasure coursed through her and began to build the more she stroked herself. Her skin began to glow faintly at first, then more brightly and when that bubble of pleasure burst in her mind, it was as if her skin gave off a burst of white light. She felt herself open and looking down her body, breathing raggedly, she could see that her sex had opened; it glowed with the same pure white light. Too soon however, after a few minutes, her breathing went back to normal and the lips of her sex closed slowly, knitting together to form the puckered ridge again. Her skin returned to its normal gold colour and she became conscious for the first time of her state of undress.

 

Malakier looked around with embarrassment, pulling down her tank top over her breasts and scrambling to pull on her underwear and pants. Suddenly she thought she heard a noise and stopped, shivering as she strained to listen, but that proximity sense she had, which told her when others were close by, now indicated that Kathryn and Chakotay were no longer in the room above. They must have returned to the shelter. Guiltily, she gathered up the scattered tools and checked her chronometer—less than two hours had passed since their presence had interrupted her work. It had felt like an eternity.

 

She crawled weakly through the access tunnel to the site where next series of structural integrity field emitters were to be installed—underneath the kitchen, close to the hull in case of a breach. Guilt ate at her, even as residual spasms of pleasure coursed through her body and her new sexual status excited her.

 

Malakier took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She hadn't meant to listen to their lovemaking, but she had been intrigued by their whispers—for some strange reason, talking seemed to heighten their passions and she found herself caught up in their excitement for each other. Even thinking of it now nearly made her drop her tools.

 

She lay down in the tunnel for a moment to try to slow her breathing, calm the excitement still churning within her and wondered why she had been so affected by their clandestine tryst. It was not as if she had never been exposed to people having sex before, although she didn't understand why they'd called it a blessing, or felt the need to do it all over the ship.

 

And under her undeniable wonder at all the sensations she now felt, Malakier felt an irrational spurt of anger at them, they were supposed to be sleeping. But even as the thought registered, she knew that they could not possibly know she had been there also. They had probably come to the ship in order not to disturb _her_ sleep. However, she had not been able to sleep and had decided to try and get some of her work done. No, Kathryn and Chakotay had thought they were doing her a courtesy by coming here.

 

She sat up as she regained her composure and began to work on installing the emitters. Her part in getting the ship ready for her maiden flight consisted of odd jobs around the ship—mostly installing components that were difficult to do wrong in non-vital systems. Systems such as the environmental controls, the waste recycling system and later the systems for the airponics garden in the large cargo bay. That she had thought was a mistake. The smaller bay above the shuttle docking bay was more suitable, but they had insisted that at least seventy-five percent of the large bay, if not all of it, be devoted to growing food since they needed to be self-sufficient and would need to save the replicators for manufacturing parts. Perhaps within a few months, they would have enough energy reserves to build a new replicator, but until then, the garden would be their major source of food.

 

Kathryn had even begun to fertilise and store fish embryos in her stasis units so that they would have a constant supply of protein, while only needing a few aquarium tanks, which would require little maintenance. Other animals were too much trouble and too much of a risk of getting loose and into areas where they could do damage. However, the garden would be the last thing to be installed after they returned with their supply of weapons if they could not get it done before.

 

Malakier frowned as she slipped an emitter into place—the rendezvous with Solen to set up the place for the weapons transfer was less than three weeks away, and they were not nearly ready enough. Kathryn was still having many unanticipated problems bringing the warp core on-line, she still had done very little about the computer and sensors were barely functioning. Chakotay was only now getting around to fixing the main weapon's array, installing the phaser couplings and the missiles salvaged from her ship, after spending almost a week bringing the shield emitters on line. About the only thing of value that was functioning properly on the ship was the cloak, whose emitters had never been tested for phasing.

 

They needed to get so much done and time was running out—if those two could not sleep, then their time would have been more productively spent working instead of—

 

She looked down at the mangled tool in her hands and tried to straighten the handle again— _instead of having sex and forcing me to sexual maturity._

 

Again, she shook off the unfairness of that thought; they couldn't have known she was there, she reminded herself again. She wondered, as tears welled up in her eyes, if it was supposed to be like this. Did children of her people come to sexual awareness so abruptly?

 

Malakier put down the instrument—its handle still bent at a slight angle—and slid the last emitter into its housing. Taking out her tricorder, she performed the diagnostic and looked wearily around the labyrinth of access corridors and tunnels—she still needed to finish the eight aft instalments on this deck, before she was done.

 

 _"You have to take time for yourself, even at a time like this when we seem to be racing the clock,"_ Kathryn's voice seemed to whisper from the tunnels. _"It may seem pointless on the surface, like it's a waste of time, but the rewards are things you can't put a price on."_

 

That's what they had been doing, taking time for themselves and each other, and despite their exertions that night, they would be at work early in the morning with that wonderful, unflagging optimism in place.

 

Malakier returned her tools to her workbag and crawled to the nearest exit tunnel that let her out onto the catwalk high above the floor of the soon to be garden. She climbed down the ladder to the floor and went directly to the thing that seemed to be calling her to it. The top separated and lifted invitingly as she approached and removed her bag. As she prepared to climb in she felt a sudden _wrongness_. She found herself thinking about the small child who had crawled out of it all those years before and about the _adult_ she was becoming. She straightened up again, quickly removed her clothing—suddenly it felt so constricting. The only thing she wore was Byrillen's pendant on its golden chain.

 

As Malakier slipped her hands into the mechanism and the Craft's body flowed all around her as it closed, she asked softly, "Help me to dream."

 

****

 

"Mala," Kathryn called as she poked her head into the main aft access tunnel junction. "Why didn't you answer my signal—it's time for lunch." The young woman's back was to her as she continued to work on aligning the emitter she was installing. "Malakier," Kathryn called impatiently, annoyed that she didn't answer.

 

"I heard you," her friend answered in a tight voice. "Go to lunch without me; I am not hungry."

 

Kathryn studied her for a moment, noting the set stare of her profile as she ran the tricorder over the structural integrity field emitters for the second time. "Is something wrong, Mala?" she asked pulling herself up into the tunnel.

 

"Nothing is wrong, Kathryn," she replied in the same tight voice now shaded with anger. "Just go to lunch and let me get back to work."

 

"Something is wrong," Kathryn insisted sitting down behind her and reaching for her shoulder to turn her so they were face to face.

 

Malakier's bland mask would have done any poker player proud, but Kathryn could see the anger in her amber coloured eyes—she realised she'd never noticed Malakier's eyes before.

 

"You didn't come to breakfast and you've been upset all morning—in fact you've been acting like a bear all week. What is it?"

 

The young woman remained in stony silence, and Kathryn bit her tongue and willed herself to remain calm.

 

"Fine Mala, you don't have to talk about it, but you have to eat. It's time you took a break."

 

"Take a break?" the young woman fumed, the fire snapping in her eyes now. "Do you realise that in less than seventeen days we have to rendezvous with Solen and give him a place and date for the transfer—do you know what will happen if we are one minute later than we agreed upon. They will know just how weak and vulnerable we are!" she shouted furiously as Kathryn continued to stare at her in surprise at her outburst. "No, I guess you do not!"

 

"Mala, are you having second thoughts about coming with us?" Kathryn asked in concern. "It's only natural that you should, we can-"

 

"We can do what?" she snapped. "Leave me alone on this planet again? Take me back to Teerixi? What do I do without a ship, without currency or my power base? Do you know what they will do? They will eat me alive! I ruin myself for you and now you want to throw me away!" she screamed wildly. "You are determined to destroy my only chance to get away—"

 

Malakier sobbed hysterically, backing away from Kathryn into the corner. "You can not even get the warp engine on-line and you do not seem to care about it. You people and your breaks! Take time for yourself," she continued sarcastically, "well, you can take all the time you need to bless every room in this ship because we will need every prayer we can get when they get their hands on us!"

 

She looked at Kathryn in horror as she realised what she had just admitted to—that she had heard Kathryn and Chakotay making love the night before.

 

"I am so sorry," she whispered hoarsely as Kathryn gazed at her in shock. Her fury drowned out the sound of Malakier's sobs. Her most private acts with Chakotay had been spied upon, invaded, violated by this woman and thrown back into her face, devoid of all the beauty they had held until moments before. She turned without a word and crawled back towards the junction.

 

"Please wait, please let me explain."

 

Kathryn stiffened as the echoes of her own words to Chakotay the previous winter, whispered on the cold wind that blew through her mind. She turned to face Malakier still curled up in the corner of the tunnel in complete misery.

 

"I am sorry, Kathryn," she whispered again. "I could not sleep—I was so worried about getting finished . . . nothing is going as planned, we are so far behind!" She swallowed her sobs with a visible effort and continued softly. "I did not realise what you were planning to do. I thought that you were just passing through your rooms and that you had returned to check if the problem was in the nacelle. By the time I realised that you were not there to work, I had become caught up in your emotions and it left me helpless to do anything but experience them with you and … and … Oh Kathryn, I did not mean to listen—please believe me," she begged desperately.

 

Kathryn studied her a moment, her arms wrapped around her knees and her head buried in her arms as she cried softly—this killer, this child who had felt abandoned from the first moment she could remember.

 

_"We can do what? Leave me alone on this planet again?"_

 

For some reason, all Malakier's fears had bubbled to the surface now; fears that she and Chakotay had never given much thought to, but should have from the first moment they had decided to take her with them—from the moment they realised how young she was. She had been a child living in terror under a thick shell of bravado and sheer willpower in a society where she couldn't afford to show weakness. They had encouraged her to explore who that child was, but without any real support from them, Kathryn could see that now.

 

Kathryn moved back towards her and gathered the girl into her arms. "I'm sorry, Mala, that we didn't think of how traumatic this break would be for you," she said softly. "We're not going to leave you; you're not going to be abandoned again if we can help it—not willingly. As Chakotay says, we don't know what the future will bring, but I can promise you we'll face it together no matter what the outcome. It's all right to be afraid, we're afraid too and it doesn't make you less courageous, it doesn't make you any less Malakier, the audacious young woman who calmly announced she was going with us … that she was going to take care of us. You have, and we'll take care of you; I promise. We can't promise that we won't die, but we will try not to leave you alone," she lifted the girl's chin and looked into her brimming eyes.

 

"In fact," she said with a small smile. "There will be times when you'll wish we would and you will shut the door to your quarters in our faces. But know this, Mala, you're not alone—we care for you deeply and even when we can't be together anymore, you still won't be alone."

 

"Thank you," she whispered laying her head on Kathryn's shoulder. "I am sorry that I hurt you like that—"

 

Kathryn chuckled softly and stroked Malakier's hair. "You should've seen how mortified I was after the first time I walked in on my parents making love and realised what they'd been doing. It stirred up a lot of feelings in you didn't it?"

 

Mala nodded as she answered with embarrassment, "Yes. I have never felt this way before, even though I have had experience with people having sex. It never affected me this way— I do not know what happened last night to change everything."

 

Kathryn smiled and caressed her cheek gently. "I think that there have been a lot of changes in you in the last little while—little changes that go beyond all this major upheaval we've put you through. Chakotay and I should have realised it earlier, I'm sorry we didn't. Have you ever been in love, Mala?" she asked softly.

 

"No," Malakier answered quietly. "Males have never interested me in that way. I have teased and cajoled and made promises when it suited my purpose, usually with males who would not be able to say anything later—but there was never any emotion involved." She laughed wryly, "Unless you count embarrassment and distaste the time I had to dance naked for the Lumidarian ambassador so that I could get close enough to him—"

 

Kathryn grimaced with inward distaste, and then smiled wanly, "No let's definitely not count him." And they both laughed as the relief set in. "Don't worry, Mala," she continued brightly. "Interest in love will happen—it's not something that can be rushed, or should be rushed into, although I can't say how long it will take. Are you ready now to go for lunch?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Good," Kathryn returned. "But there is something I want to show you first," she said making her way out of the access tunnel to the deck above. "Leave your tools; you can get back to it later."

 

She followed Kathryn back through the ship past the living quarters and into engineering. "Take a look," Kathryn said as they entered onto the catwalk. Kathryn put her arm around Malakier's waist as she looked at the functioning warp core in surprise. "I guess you can say I was inspired last night," she quipped as the girl giggled softly. "Come on, let's go get lunch."

 

"There are somethings I need to tell you first," Malakier said diffidently. "Happening on you and Chakotay was not what disturbed me last night—well it was not the only thing. So many things happened so quickly, I don't know where to start and on top of that I had a dream—a nightmare—and it frightened me. I've never had nightmares before."

 

"Was that why you couldn't sleep?" Kathryn asked leaning against the railing. "The nightmare?

 

Mala took a deep breath and looked out over the warp core as she spoke, "No, I had the nightmare after I left the access tunnels. I went to the forward cargo hold—I do not know why, but I wanted to be with the Craft. But something happened before that," she said glancing into Kathryn's eyes, then looking away in embarrassment. "It happened when you and Chakotay were m-making love," she whispered.

 

Kathryn sat down on the catwalk and pulled Malakier down to sit next to her. "What happened?" she asked gently.

 

"I'm not sure," the girl replied miserably. She lifted her gaze to meet Kathryn's. "I think I became an adult last night!" she blurted out.

 

Kathryn stared at her in shock, unable to say anything for a few beats. Malakier turned away, curled up and sobbed brokenly. Kathryn pulled her into her embrace and stroked her back gently.

 

"Why don't you start at the beginning," Kathryn said when she finally cried herself out.

 

Malakier nodded, drying her tears with the heels of her palms, but Kathryn could still see the horrible embarrassment in her eyes. Slowly the story tumbled out. She pulled her tricorder from her dress pocket and scanned Malakier to confirm the incredible truth. Kathryn realised that Malakier had literally become a woman overnight. There were recognisable ovaries and uterus, and a number of other organs that hadn't been present when Kathryn had last scanned her only a month before.

 

"Chakotay and I—" Now Kathryn was the one to break off in embarrasment. "Our hormone levels or more likely our pheromones probably acted like some kind of catalyst to start the maturity process over the last couple of weeks." Malakier nodded as she continued wryly. "Our little display last night must have provided the final push that put you over the edge. No wonder you've been so cranky." Malakier managed a small, tired laugh. "Is that what caused your nightmare?"

 

"No," Malakier answered. "Or maybe in part. After it happened, I wanted to be with my Craft—the way I had been as a child, so I went into it naked. It was good at first to feel so connected with it, to have it touch every part of me. Then I asked it to help me to dream. At first I just floated in the nothingness—I felt safe and warm—and then the nightmare began. I thought I was awake, that I was on the salvaged ship. We were trying to get the weapons, but the Kazon came because Solen had called them. He had betrayed me—betrayed us to Seska and Culluh and there was nothing I could do to help you and Chakotay. Culluh held your chains while Seska tore great pieces of Chakotay's flesh and fed it to her child as she violated Chakotay while you were forced to watch."

 

Kathryn looked at the young woman's stricken face in shock; they had never told Mala that Seska had taken Chakotay's genetic material by force in an effort to conceive his child.

 

Malakier continued without seeming to really register Kathryn's presence anymore. "Then Culluh held you over Chakotay and we were in a place of snow and ice and I am beneath a ceiling of ice in the freezing water, pounding on the ice. He shoots you and you're bleeding over Chakotay, then he shoots Chakotay and the ice shatters and your bodies fall past me and the fish pick clean your bones—

 

"Then I am in the wastelands where I was found, bound to the boulders and I can not move. The child leaves the crack in the wall and comes over to me and begins to eat my flesh because she is so very hungry and I cannot die. I just remain there while she feeds on me growing more and more grotesque, losing her hair and being covered in boils and I woke up screaming, desperate to get out of the Craft."

 

Kathryn held her tightly in her embrace, trying to soothe the nightmare away with gentle caresses as Malakier finished softly, "That is why I did not have breakfast. I got dressed and spent the rest of the night trying to finish installing the field emitters—I damaged two of them," she said crying.

 

"That's all right," Kathryn said quietly. "They can always be repaired, far more easily than you can emotionally," she whispered wiping Malakier's tears away gently. "I think you should take the rest of the day off—it's not a punishment, you just need to get some proper sleep and that will put things into perspective for you. You've had too many upheavals in such a short time and you need to rest. But you don't need the Craft to help you dream, Mala, and you don't have to face your nightmares alone; all you have to do is call out to us, let us help you. Then when you wake up this evening, we'll try to help you sort out this dream, because talking about your fears helps to render them powerless over you."

 

"Thank you," she answered crying softly into Kathryn's shoulder.

 

****

 

"What do we do Chakotay?" Kathryn asked as they sat by the river. She had just finished telling him about Malakier's incredible metamorphosis and about the nightmare.

 

"We'll do what you told her," he answered softly as he drew her to him. "We'll talk about it and try to disperse some of the hold the nightmare has over her; it's the best thing to do. Gods she must have been terrified."

 

"Chakotay, what I can't understand is how she knew about what happened between you and Seska," Kathryn said in confusion. "Granted it's a rather nightmarish version, but it's basically what happened to you."

 

He turned her to face him, and caressed her knuckles gently. "Doesn't another part of that dream seem familiar to you Kathryn?" She looked at him in continued confusion. "Kathryn, why were you so agitated last night that you couldn't get to sleep?" he asked softly. He saw the recognition blossom in her eyes as she stared back into his. "We've all been feeling rather apprehensive in the last while. Your nightmares are back too, aren't they?"

 

Kathryn nodded slowly in comprehension. "Are you saying that she is somehow confusing our nightmares with her own?" she croaked hoarsely.

 

"I think that she's far more telepathic or at least empathic than we first suspected and I wouldn't be surprised if her metamorphosis to adulthood wasn't catalised in part because of the psychic emanations from us as well as our pheromones," he answered and Kathryn stared at him in shock. "There was an entire bukhead between us—it's far more likely she was responding to us telepathically, rather than chemically last night. And it's known that in some species, mental talents can be submerged if the person is exposed to a life of extreme violence, as a sort of protective measure. Look at what happened to Suder."

 

"Afterwards, being in that Craft while she was feeling so overwhelmed by everything that's happening to her, probably made it worse—amplified those talents," Kathryn said.

 

"Look at the images she got," Chakotay continued. "Seska violating me to get my flesh for her child; you and I dying on an ice planet while she watches helplessly, then the fish picking our bones clean; being bound to that rock, while her child-self consumes her flesh and grows more grotesque. It's like the nightmares from all three of us in some bizarre fusion—it is little wonder she freaked out. Plus there's the onset of puberty with all that entails, her understandable fear of abandonment and if her conscience is rearing its ugly head as we encouraged it to do, I suspect that her nightmares are going to continue to be horrible for a while."

 

"So what do we do?" Kathryn whispered softly.

 

"Like I said we talk about it, help her to feel safe, protected, loved. Just let her know that we love her and that we are there for her. I'd also suggest that in the meantime, she keep away from that Craft—or at least from being in it when she's so upset. Possibly try to find some way to make it safer, or at least help her to relax before she tries to use it again." he finished holding her tightly.

 

****

 

"But I am not a telepath," Malakier insisted. "Believe me, there were times when I did wish I could read minds—but I cannot."

 

"We believe that you may be a latent telepath, Mala," Chakotay explained. "Or that the Craft enhanced or amplified what ever talents you may possess. Some species develop their abilities in childhood, some during adolescence, while others do not develop fully until adulthood—and you're just starting that process. The Craft is probably picking up on your fears and amplifying those of the people around you."

 

"And you believe that somehow I read your dreams, your fears," she said quietly. "But you were happy last night and making love . . ." her voice trailed of in embarrassment.

 

Kathryn looked a little uncomfortably at Chakotay and he smiled his encouragement to her.

 

"Yes we were, Mala," she began. "But the reason we couldn't sleep was because of our fears, because we too have our own nightmares that plague us." She smiled warmly as she continued. "Making love helps one to connect to another in a very fundamental way—helps chase away the fears because there is someone with you that you love. It helps you to feel safe. It is difficult to explain when you're not sure of what you are trying to say—describing an emotion as encompassing as love is so difficult."

 

"However, the point is that we do have our own nightmares to contend with," Chakotay said. "Things rooted in our psyches from our experiences in life."

 

Malakier nodded, remaining silent for a moment then asked, "Can you explain which part of the dream was yours and which was mine? It was all so vivid—so real to me."

 

"To understand my part, you must understand that I had a fairly lengthy, and in the end, emotionally costly relationship with Seska," Chakotay began. "We were lovers for a while—comrades I thought in a fight against a common enemy. So you can imagine how I felt when I realised that she was the enemy. And even though we hadn't been lovers for a long time before that, the entire episode still hurt very deeply.

 

"I felt responsible for this viper, this traitor I'd brought on board Kathryn's ship; so when she stole some transporter technology for Culluh and they began using it as a weapon against the Nistrim’s enemies, I had couldn't let it go—I had to do something. I made a suicide run to Culluh's ship, got inside and destroyed the transporter, but as a consequence I was captured. They tortured me, but Voyager caught up and rescued me—I don't remember much of what happened because she used a lot of drugs, but afterwards she taunted me that she had harvested my genetic material to impregnate herself and that she was pregnant with my child."

 

He took a deep breath as he continued, "So the part of your dream about Seska violating me and feeding my flesh to her child, came from a nightmare that's been plaguing me since Teerixi."

 

"And the part about us dying on that ice world is mine," Kathryn whispered. "It stems from something in my past that was very painful and has affected me all my adult life. It's something that I repressed all memory of until recently, but it still managed to have a stronghold on me, colouring my actions and perceptions without my realising it."

 

Chakotay gently squeezed her hand under the table as she forged ahead. "When I was much younger, I was engaged to be married to the first man I ever felt a deep adult love for. My father was one of our starship designers, and Justin was an excellent pilot in his own right. We were home on leave after a long mission and had announced our engagement to my family—I was so happy. We were helping my father test a prototype for a new ship when there was an accident; it crashed on an ice planet and broke up. I was thrown free onto the ice, but my father and Justin were in trapped the cockpit. I could see that they were still alive but unable to get out as it sank."

 

Chakotay met Malakier's eyes as Kathryn raced to get the words out ahead of her tears. She knew what was coming as her own eyes filled with tears. "I found the remains of the transporter unit still intact but its power levels would only allow me to transport one and I couldn't choose—so I tried to boost the power. But when I tried to transport them, it was too late.

 

"It should have worked, everything I knew told me it should have worked, but I lost them both because I couldn't choose. It took a long time before I was able to start some semblance of living a normal life again, but one of my greatest fears is that I'll make the wrong choice, or I won't be able to choose in a crisis. I'm starting out on a new journey with two people I care very deeply for—two people I love, and I am very much afraid of making the wrong choices that could lead to their deaths."

 

Malakier wept as she put her arms around Kathryn. "I am sorry, I am so sorry you had to endure that," she said softly.

 

"We all have to endure what life throws at us the best we can, Mala," Kathryn replied as they broke their embrace. She dried her eyes and stroked her friend's cheek. "What about your part of the dream, have you thought of what it meant."

 

Mala nodded and looked out the door into the moonlit yard. "I suppose I have always been afraid of betrayal. Byrilar is the only person whom I have ever trusted fully, but I have counted Solen among my few friends. The only thing is I know him too well; I could read the look in his eyes as he witnessed your technology for the first time. Although at that moment, the one person he loved most, whom he loved even more than Byrilar, lay as close to death as she has ever been in her life. He was weighing his chances of taking you and only when I shouted at him did he seem to fully register the danger to Byrillen or the fact that you were her best chance for survival.

 

"There are so many ways we can be betrayed," she said hoarsely, "and I fear I can not control the situation. You see, even when I have had to use an intermediary, they always knew that I was there looking over their shoulders if they even dared think about betrayal. They have always known that the retribution would be swift and sure—although many have still tried it because the stakes we played for in this game were always so high. I have always won because I have always controlled the game and I have always been ruthless. A conscience is a very dangerous thing to have. I suppose that is why I was so afraid of that final image—so desperately frightened of the child and what it became. In the end it was such a grotesque, putrid thing and still it fed on me, gorging itself on my very soul. I realise it is part of me and I need to save it, but I do not know how or if I can. I know however, that I do not want to be that thing; I do not want it to be the only thing I am. But I fear that it is—that there is nothing it has not consumed."

 

"It isn't," Chakotay said as Kathryn hugged her again. "It is not all you are and it will never be all you are. However, there are things we must all contend with in our lives and a big part of life is keeping such things from consuming us, from consuming our souls. It is among the hardest things to do."

 

He stood behind her stroking her hair gently as she continued to cry, clinging desperately to Kathryn. "But you have to realise that even before you knew us Mala, you had a conscience and it was what kept you from fully becoming that thing—kept your soul from being consumed by it. You are by no means a soul-less thing, Malakier, no matter what you've done and you can still save yourself from it. As long as you continue to try, you will never be consumed by it."

 

****

 

"Put down the weapon, Solen," Malakier said as the mercenary materialised on the shuttle's transporter pad. "You are among friends here and besides, Kathryn has taken the liberty of rendering it non-functional."

 

Malakier gave a frustrated sigh as she snatched the weapon from him, pressed it against his head and fired before she slapped it back into his hand. Inwardly she relaxed more as his sense of alarm increased.

 

"What is this Malakier?" he asked trying to regain his composure. "We were supposed to rendezvous on my ship."

 

"I know," she replied in a dismissive tone. "Chakotay here has been acquainting me with the classic human art of strategy—much of it is quite alien, but even very old tricks from the alpha quadrant are new here and therefore very effective. You can understand why they especially, are quite wary about situations in which they do not retain the advantage. They are after all only two people. Even I did not fully appreciate their talents when I first hijacked them, but I have since learned otherwise. I would say that perhaps one of the wisest decisions I have ever made in my life was to make them my friends. Can you imagine an enemy who can scatter your molecules across the cosmos?"

 

She smiled at the wild look that came into his eyes as she continued, "Now Seska is right; they are rather reluctant to kill, but do not make the mistake of thinking them weak or stupid. Any species who can think up the things they do—well you can imagine what they can do when they have no other choice."

 

"The details of the purchases are on my ship," Solen said finding his voice again after an uncomfortable silence. He darted a nervous glance at Kathryn and Chakotay in the cockpit with their backs to him. "We must send for them—"

 

"You mean these?" she asked innocently, handing him the padd. "Kathryn downloaded them an hour ago," she said quietly as he once again became flustered. "Since then, I have been studying your records and I noted that you met with the trader Cotris four days ago in regards to a certain device used to keep Azaru fusion rods stable and undetectable."

 

Malakier's voice was low and menacing as she continued. "Now I would like to share something with you, because I realise that it would be useless to argue with you or try to dissuade you if you are truly set on this course. But since we have been friends and believe it or not I do love Byrillen, I am willing to follow my new friends' example—never kill when you can persuade. In that way, that person is around to persuade another day, although it also means that they are around to plot to kill you, but one must always take risks. Half the fun is staying one step ahead of the other players in the game.

 

"Now you can take my word for it that their sensors, even in this tiny craft are beyond imagining—they would have to be in order to accomplish something as miraculous as molecular transport. So if anything other than the weapons is detected, if there is any hint of sabotage at all, you will regret it. Believe me, they will know and I may not kill you, but I very well will destroy you and I will not leave you the sporting chance I left Culluh and Seska—in the end, killing you will be superfluous."

 

"Understood," Solen answered in a low voice.

 

"All right, we will return you to the bridge of your ship in a moment," she said in a more friendly tone. "The weapons are satisfactory and we have uploaded the specifications and location for the transfer into your private files. You have no need to worry about your crew while you have been here; Kathryn and Chakotay have taken the liberty of locking them out of the ship's systems until your return and have been in control of your ship. If they were not so terribly honourable, you would have reason to worry, but you do not. It is an annoying habit I am trying to break them of, but I am making little progress; it is too far grounded in their psyches and it is why Seska constantly underestimates them and loses each time. Now if you will step back onto the transporter pad, we will return you to your bridge."

 

He bowed to her respectfully and stepped onto the pad.

 

"Goodbye Solen, take care of Byrillen and I will see you in ten days—oh and Solen, be sure to get rid of the tracking devices you had installed into the missile casings next to the power sources. Energise." She grinned at him as he dematerialised with a frightened look on his face.

 

"An annoying habit you're trying to break us of?" Kathryn asked archly as Mala came to look out of the forward viewport.

 

She laughed, as she answered, "I am not entirely sure Solen would understand your particular concept of honour Kathryn—so I had to put it into terms he would understand and has had experience dealing with."

 

"I wonder what Starfleet would say if they knew that their Captain Kathryn Janeway was involved with shaking down a mercenary in some shady deals," Chakotay said chuckling.

 

"What I am wondering is what Solen would have said if he knew that we had kept our part of the bargain and met on his ship," Mala said giggling at the sight of the Master Commander's empty cargo bay. "Did you get the schematics and control codes for the sensors and ventilation system?"

 

"Yes," Kathryn replied with a smile. "And even if they change all the codes, I've left a small executive over-ride back door to which only I have the key. Are you sure he will use this ship?"

 

"Certain," Malakier replied. "The only other alternative I can see is him using one belonging to another arms dealer and that is contrary to his nature."

 

"Well we're ready for phasing, and we'll drop back into phase at ten million kilometres," Chakotay reported.

 

Malakier laughed again, "Yes, it was definitely a wise choice to make friends of you two."

 

****

 


	5. Rising from the Ashes

"Well ladies," Chakotay said as they surveyed the bridge, which was in a more pristine condition than they would have thought possible. "She's as ready as we can make her—the last decontamination series is done, we'll just have to wait and see how well the New Earth species of plants thrive on board ship. In any case, we'll start moving them in this afternoon, and should be finished by tomorrow night. With any luck, we'll have the house packed and the cloak dismantled within three days. We're as loaded with as much ore, ceramic base, trialurite and mesoquartzite as we can take. We have an extra cloak, an extra warp core—a little small and old—one Starfleet issue shuttlecraft, one mysterious alien Craft that may hold the secrets to the universe, our ingenuity, and Kathryn's bathtub."

 

He and Malakier laughed at the last bit as Kathryn tried to glare at them without much success.

 

"I'd definitely say this calls for a celebration," Kathryn chuckled. She drew a bottle of fruit wine Chakotay had made earlier that year from the picnic hamper. She poured their glasses and held her own up in a toast. "To success in all our endeavours," she began brightly.

 

"To hope," Chakotay continued and turned smiling to Malakier.

 

"And to friendship," she concluded as they brought their glasses to touch hers.

 

As they sipped their wine and sat down on the deck to have their meal, Chakotay commented, "We should think of a name for this fine vessel."

 

"I suppose," Mala said. "But I do not see why it is necessary."

 

"Because even a ship needs an identity," he explained. "Something to express what she means to those she carries."

 

"What about what you said, Chakotay," Kathryn began with a soft smile. He looked at her in mild confusion. "You said, "to hope"; it is what she is to the three of us, a new hope for the future. What about a name that symbolises new hope? A name like the _Phoenix_."

 

A wide smile blossomed on his face as he pulled her to him and kissed her passionately. " _Phoenix_ is a wonderful name—a most appropriate name," he laughed.

 

"What is the significance of it?" Malakier asked curiously.

 

"It is a great bird from our mythology that is a symbol of hope," Kathryn replied. "It is said to rise gloriously from the ashes of its defeat and to transcend that defeat."

 

"I think that is a good symbol for what we are trying to do," Chakotay continued. "Each day we all look to the future with hope, we rise from the ashes of defeat and will continue to rise if we do not give up our hopes. It needn't be grand ambitions, small hopes are as important as large ones—to see those we love on _Voyager_ again. When we first talked about you going with us, Mala, you said that you simply wanted to know if you were meant for anything more than the life you had been living. What would you say in response to that now?" he asked quietly.

 

"I would say yes," she replied softly after a moment. She looked into their eyes and smiled in surprise at the revelation. "I would say that I know I was meant for something more now—but I still do not know what."

 

"But you've gained one answer already," Kathryn said. "And we haven't even gone anywhere yet. That's a big accomplishment you know, a very big accomplishment and it is something you should carry proudly around with you, Malakier, knowing that you are meant for something more. Striving to find out what that is will be another step in the journey, but for now, you've made an important beginning."

 

"Thank you," Malakier said almost shyly. She still wasn't used to so much display of emotion and affection, but she felt grateful for it. It was as if her very being was a piece of parched earth, soaking up every drop of moisture before it all had a chance to evaporate.

 

" _Phoenix_ was also the name of the first warp ship built on Earth, the one that brought us into first contact with all that the Galaxy has to offer in a very tangible way," Chakotay continued. "I think that it's appropriate that the new _Phoenix_ takes the inhabitants of New Earth out into the Galaxy once again."

 

"I propose another toast," Malakier said enthusiastically. "To the _Phoenix_!"

 

"To the _Phoenix_!" they chorused with equal enthusiasm.

 

****

 

"How much time do we have before they begin to regain consciousness Kathryn?" Malakier called.

 

"Thirty minutes," Kathryn replied over the comm looking around the empty bridge of the _Phoenix_. She was bone tired from the exertions of the last week, packing up everything but the frames of the house and the greenhouse—they had even taken the glass from the greenhouse and stored it in the airponics bay for some future use. They had left the boat lying in its makeshift berth and the house and greenhouse to the monkeys. God, how she missed it all already; she had never wanted to be stranded there, and had given it every thing she had to make sure they got out of there, but she missed it all just the same. She and Chakotay had spent their last sunrise looking out over the river, and as the dawn spread through the sky, Malakier had joined them in their silent farewell.

 

"This is our last load, Kathryn," Chakotay said breaking through her reveries. "Hold it—it looks like we've got an unwanted pest here. Oh, this has got to be a joke, Mala."

 

"No," she replied dryly. "Most likely it is the work of an idiot. Solen would not have been so stupid. It might not be much and could be easily mistaken for part of the pre-fire chamber, but only in the case of blasters made a decade ago. Had it not been detected it might have overloaded at least the power grid for the weapon's array the first time we attempted to bring up that blaster." After a moment Kathryn heard her say, "Mabris and Feju purchased the blasters—if I had to gamble, I would say it was Mabris. She was always far too cleaver for her own good use. What did she think we would do? Install them right away for immediate battle? No doubt they have been scouring the sector for signs of us since we left Teerixi. Can you remove it, Chakotay?"

 

"Give me a moment," he answered.

 

"I'll search their database to see if they have anything on our whereabouts," Kathryn said, half listening to their conversation as she set up her search pattern through the mercenaries' computer system.

 

"What do you want me to do with it?" Chakotay asked.

 

"It is harmless now," Mala answered. "Transport it to the bridge—leave it in plain view so that Solen knows that it was left as a warning. I will get the hand weapons."

 

"Will do," Chakotay answered. "Kathryn we'll be docking in five minutes."

 

"Understood, see you in a few minutes." Kathryn gave a low whistle at the results of her search as she studied the data while sipping from a large mug of coffee.

 

The weapons they had installed from Mala's ship were shaky at best, but there was definitely no going back now, they would have to work on getting the new systems installed as they went along in the next few weeks. Maybe they would find some remote world where they could work unmolested for a few days once they cleared the sector.

 

There was really no Captain's position among them, although with Chakotay often at the helm or tactical stations at the front of the bridge, Kathryn usually occupied that centre seat with its tie in to all the other systems; or else she was at the back at the bridge engineering station, or science station where she sat now.

 

Malakier had turned out to be an above average pilot—there was still a lot Chakotay had left to teach her, but in time Kathryn thought she could become a pilot of his and Tom Paris' calibre. She smiled nostalgically; she had forgotten how good Chakotay really was. At tactical however, that's where Malakier shone during the simulations they had rigged—her special talents and her ruthless instincts were going to be difficult for Chakotay to match once she was thoroughly familiar with the nuances of the system.

 

Kathryn looked to where their environmental suits hung to her left—each of them had back-ups in engineering and the shuttle; she had insisted on it, they couldn't afford to lose anyone.

 

Kathryn smiled as they entered; they could run the length of the ship in just under five minutes.

 

"The shuttle is secured and we've beamed the last of the weapons into the storage area just off airponics," Chakotay reported looking over her shoulder.

 

She had to admit he looked handsome in his black camouflage suit, his muscles rippling under the skin-tight material. They had taken to wearing them every day as sort of a uniform and they each had two others for back-ups. Kathryn usually wore a smock or tunic over hers, but Mala and Chakotay wore theirs with no adornment but their combadges and phasers—and well, Chakotay did wear an apron in the kitchen.

 

"Is that what I think it is?" he asked in concern studying her plot.

 

"It looks like we got out of there just in time," she replied with a wry smile. "They found your ship eight days ago, Mala, and realised that the Talaxian hulk was gone two days ago. Either incident by itself wouldn't have been too damaging, but the fact both of them occurred, coupled with the fact we were searching for a warp core to fit a Reelixia class ship, pretty much pin-pointed us to a sphere with a radius of about five light years. If they keep up this pattern, they'll get to New Earth in about a week, if not sooner."

 

"So we forge ahead and look for a deserted world where we can at least just hang in orbit while we make our repairs," Malakier stated, frowning at the display.

 

"That's the general plan," Kathryn replied. "Well are we ready to wake up our sleeping beauties?" she asked grinning as she headed for the centre seat.

 

"I am looking forward to it," Mala replied with rather predatory anticipation as she slipped into the pilot's seat. Chakotay took his place at tactical next to her as Kathryn neutralised the anaesthezine derivative, and activated the release of the stimulant.

 

They watched the viewscreen of the interior of the mercenary ship carefully as the fallen men and women began to revive. After a few moments of confusion, Kathryn activated the comm channel and began transmitting the image of the _Phoenix's_ bridge to the other ship.

 

Solen scowled as he recognised them. "What is this Malakier?" he said in confusion. "You are two hours late."

 

"Actually, we were on time," Mala answered grinning. "However, since you all fell asleep—it must have been that exhaustive search you have been keeping up for us. We decided we could not deprive you of your well-earned rest, so we helped ourselves to our merchandise and only our merchandise. We did find something—extra in the pre-fire chamber of one of our blasters, but we felt that it had to be a stupid mistake," she continued.

 

Solen scowled at the small device on the floor by his feet, while a young female mercenary looked at it in absolute horror.

 

"However, as you are neither a stupid person Master Commander, nor would you make such a mistake, we felt certain that someone took it on themselves to attempt this," Chakotay said evenly. "When you return to Teerixi, you will find the second half of your payment in your account, but I hope you'll forgive us if we do not accompany you."

 

Kathryn smiled as she took up her part in the impromptu play and delivered their parting shot. "As some of your more alert officers have noticed by now, you are no longer in control of your ship. Don't worry, just before we pass out of your sensor range, we will return all control to you—I know you'll forgive us if we make certain you can't track us. It's been an . . . ah . . . education doing business with the Poirolton Mercenaries of Teerixi."

 

"Goodbye Master Solen and take care of Byrillen," Malakier said quietly.

 

He smiled fondly and bowed deeply at the waist in perfect formality. "Goodbye Malakier, and good luck. I shall miss your counsel, we both will."

 

As Kathryn closed the broadcast channel, Malakier chuckled at the transmission that continued to be relayed on the forward viewscreen.

 

"All right Mabris—do you want to explain this?" Solen asked the young woman furiously.

 

The girl gave a visible shudder but stood her ground. "I thought it was such an old trick that they would not think of it Master Solen," she replied softly.

 

"You thought they would not think of it?" he yelled in outrage. "Your direct violation of my orders and underestimation of Malakier and her friends nearly cost all our lives—I should shoot you where you stand. However, obviously Mala did not think it any threat because she let us live, a parting gift if you will, but do not think that because I let you live today, this is the end of the matter. Disobey me again, Mabris, and you will be sucking vacuum!"

 

"Understood, Master Commander," the girl rasped out in terror.

 

Solen sat in his chair tiredly and looked around at his crew. "Now were any of you audacious enough to attempt any initiatives that did succeed—despite their obvious technological superiority?"

 

Kathryn met Malakier's eyes in shock as Solen chuckled softly.

 

"Ah well, I suppose Mabris, I may make a decent Poirolton Mercenary of you yet," he said.

 

Malakier laughed as Kathryn cut the feed, "I suppose you will Solen, I suppose you will—taking her out Kathryn . . . ahead full impulse."

 

"Cloak normal and functioning at peak efficiency," Chakotay reported. "Normal shields on stand-by—structural shields are at 88%."

 

"Warp manifolds are looking good, but the engines still haven't been tested properly," Kathryn continued consulting her panel from the Captain's chair. "When we get to a hundred thousand kilometres, Mala, take us to warp 5 and hold us there for the next four hours. I want to get a feel for how the system is performing as a whole before we take her to full cruising velocity."

 

"Understood, Kathryn," Mala answered. "And do not forget to return control of Solen' ship to him," she laughed.

 

"Already done," Kathryn returned smiling. "As a matter of fact, he's blazing out of there—they've just gone to warp. Is our company that bad?" she quipped.

 

"Bad enough," Chakotay laughed.

 

"We are ready to go to warp," Malakier announced.

 

"Well, my friends, let's see what's out there," Kathryn said leaning forward in anticipation as the warp stars streaked by.

 

****

 

"Anything to report?" Kathryn asked walking onto the bridge sipping the last of her coffee.

 

Mala smiled over her shoulder from the helm. After three weeks travelling with the other woman she was now used to seeing her with that ubiquitous mug of coffee or tea—coffee just after she woke up to start her shift at 08:00 and Chakotay's blend of tea the rest of the day.

 

"Nothing much, holding steady at warp 6.5, with the cloak on stand-by," she answered, as Kathryn set down her empty cup on the shelf near the door and checked the engineering status.

 

Malakier continued her report. "We passed Raxil, the Talaxian mining colony an hour ago, but other than three Kazon ships at extreme sensor range two and a half hours ago, nothing else to report. There is little else between here and Akritiri in four weeks if we make a course deviation of two point seven light years, but there is little to recommend the place and with the civil unrest lately, even shore leave would be more trouble than it is worth. If we continue on this heading at warp 6.5, we will come to the territory of the Dark Ones in ten weeks. Only the most reckless attempt to traverse it—else it takes an average of ten to thirteen months to skirt its boarders in a fast ship if you know what you are doing. We will definitely have to sit down and work on strategy. I have traversed it seven times and the point at which I intend to take us through will only take about ten to fifteen days at warp 4.5, but it is by far the most hazardous."

 

Kathryn relieved her at the helm and checked the sensors, shields and navigation data as Mala sat beside her at tactical to continue their chat. Mala was beginning her day after manning the helm for four hours—basically she would do the routine maintenance on most systems and look after the garden. Depending on the workload that day she would have between two and six hours each day free time to pursue her own interests. Interests such as learning more about the ship's systems, exercising, cooking, using the meditative techniques Chakotay had been teaching her, or just sitting with her Craft talking to it as they encouraged her to do each day.

 

"Well R&R is in two days; we'll sit down with Chakotay and hash it out over the next few weeks. Why are they called the Dark Ones?" Kathryn asked her attention still on the helm display.

 

"Because they are basically an unknowable, extremely xenophobic people who permit no one to cross their territory; the few reports we have say they are a reptilian species, but I have never taken the pains to find out," she said grinning as Kathryn laughed. "Byrilar worked out a system for breaching their tachyon perimeter grid, but we will have to spend at least a week observing the movements of their ships—they tend to swarm anyone they detect and drain their power, killing the crew. The phasing mechanism will be of value if we can use it. Their ships have a strange energy signature output; I do not know how it will affect the ship."

 

"Understood," Kathryn replied and sighed. "I know that is barely been a week since our last one, but I'm looking forward to R&R day. I am going to spend the entire morning in my bathtub," she said longingly.

 

"You always spend the morning in the tub," Mala laughed. "We are going to have to make up some time since you had to take us down to warp three while you fixed the problem with the manifold, so we should be getting to the target system about six hours later than we planned." After a moment she looked back at the science station and asked diffidently, "How is the work on the three dimensional cartographic system coming?"

 

Kathryn laughed heartily as she checked the helm display again. "I was wondering how long it would take you to bring it up," she said meeting Mala's eyes fondly. "Why don't you go check it out?"

 

From the way she said it, Malakier knew she had finished it and gave a small laugh of joy as she hurried over to the science station.

 

"You finished it," she said happily as she activated the large, black-top desk console next to the science station and it projected a rectangular volume of the entire sector in miniature with amazing resolution. She zoomed in on their current position just past the Raxil colony, and watched the subtle changes in the map of the ten light years ahead as the ship's cartographic array automatically updated the display.

 

Kathryn continued to speak to her enthusiastically from the helm, "You'll have the latest, most up to date information we can gather of at least the next forty light years ahead of our course when you start to take the Craft out. As well, you'll have up to one hundred and fifty light years extrapolated from our old standard charts. However, only the first fifteen light years will have such good resolution, but that should give us a workable long-range distance of close to two hundred light years ahead. The entire computer core from your old ship will be dedicated to it and we'll update it with the data we get from the cartographic surveyor mounted on the Craft each time you return."

 

"When can we start?" she asked breathlessly.

 

"Hold on," Kathryn said in amusement. "You are really chomping at the bit aren't you? Once the final glitches are worked out of the surveyor and the subspace sensor array, and once we're reasonably sure of your safety, we can start trials of up to forty light years in two to three weeks." Kathryn laughed again at her hiss of excitement. "Your rapport with your Craft has really improved, there's no sign of anxiety or apprehension when you're in it and it is open. But we still can't penetrate it when it's closed—although you've never had another bad dream. Getting through Byrilar's work is still slow going. Her thought processes are quite different from mine, so I'm still not sure what she was planning to do, but I think once we start to gather our own data we'll have a little better idea of just what we're looking at."

 

Kathryn chuckled again as Malakier turned off the projection and came to put her arms around her from behind to hug her. "Thank you," she whispered.

 

"It's for all of us, Mala, but you're welcome," Kathryn answered as Malakier sat beside her again. "Anyway, I figure that with the phasing trials over in the next week and a half and the reconfiguration of the blasters' pre-fire chambers finished, we should be able to turn much of our attention to your Craft. It seems that warp 8.5 is going to be the optimum limit of the phasing mechanism, balancing velocity and time out of phase before it has to be shut down. We can safely remain phased for thirty-two minutes at warp 8.5—above that it becomes too unstable to phase with the interference from the warp field, although we won't have much trouble remaining cloaked for hours even at warp 9.3, which is our safest maximum velocity."

 

Malakier knew from her studies of cloaking systems that this improvement in performance was almost completely due to the effect of the mesoquarzite on the Tarok lines and the efficiency of the trialurite power source Kathryn had invented.

 

"At warp 6 we can safely remain phased for about forty-eight hours," Kathryn continued, "and if we just use the cloak alone, we can remain cloaked for more than five days before the build-up of warp particles makes us as easy to track as a Kazon warship. Therefore, we don't want to put any more strain on the entire phase-cloak system than absolutely necessary. So what are you up to today?" she asked in interest.

 

"It is going to be a relatively slow day," Malakier answered, bringing her knees up under her chin as she leaned back in the tactical seat. "I will be aft for a while running the diagnostic on the structural integrity emitters closest to the nacelle assembly. Chakotay thought it would be a good idea to keep up the diagnostics every two weeks for at least the next six months because of the way the shuttle is docked and the number of different power systems we have on board.

 

"Although most are autonomous, he wants to make sure there are no interference problems—so I will also check interlock relays. Then I will probably have about an hour to study before I make lunch, something I found called chilli—I will try the minced red fish. Then I am in 'ponics for a little light pruning before I join you in engineering for the diagnostic on the blaster assemblies at 13:30 hours. And depending on how long that takes, I will spend the rest of the time with my Craft until it is time to change shifts on the helm with Chakotay at 16:00."

 

Malakier uncurled slowly and stood, stretching thoroughly before turning to leave. "I will see you at lunch," she said squeezing Kathryn's shoulder before making her way to the exit. She did not know why, but she was picking up these little mannerisms unconsciously from Kathryn and Chakotay and she did not know what to do about them—or if there was anything to be done.

 

"See you at lunch," Kathryn replied as she exited into the short corridor between the bridge and the catwalk above the main floor of engineering on deck two.

 

Malakier went to the main storage locker and retrieved the tricorder and the diagnostic tools she would require. She smiled, gazing at the powerful warp core for a moment before shifting her gaze to the small Craft across from Kathryn's main workstation. She felt a rush of excitement and pride—even as powerful as they had made this ship, it was nothing compared to this last link she had with her people, whoever they might be. She brought herself out of her reverie and hurried along the catwalk to the other side of engineering and out into the corridor of the living quarters, ducking quickly into the kitchen for a snack of fruit.

 

She hurried past the quarters and wondered where Chakotay had gone to bed after she had relieved him at 04:00 that morning, if he had crawled in next to Kathryn or if he had slept in his own quarters. She decided that most likely he had gone to Kathryn, with their lives as they were on board there was little time for them to just be in each other's arms.

 

No wonder Kathryn looked forward to R&R day each week, where they just hung in space or in orbit, safely cloaked and sometimes phased for an entire twenty-four hour period with only sporadic checks on the systems. It was about the only time they used the mess hall for meals, whereas during the week, they ate lunch and dinner on the bridge with whomever was at the helm, with everyone getting their own breakfasts—generally fruit or the bread she and Chakotay made each week.

 

She quickly crossed the aft storage bay and entered the access tunnel that would take her to the array of emitters on which she needed to run the diagnostic. She crawled through the tunnel still thinking of Kathryn and Chakotay—even sleeping they didn't spend much time together. Their sleeping arrangement was such that she, Malakier, went off duty at 20:00 and on again at 04:00, while Kathryn's sleep shift was from 00:00 to 08:00, and Chakotay's from 04:00 to 12:00. That only left one eight-hour period between 00:00 and 08:00 at which time there was only one person awake and active at the helm.

 

Even there they had tried to minimise the risk so that Chakotay was alone at the helm for only four hours from 00:00 to 04:00, and she Malakier, from 04:00 to 08:00. Kathryn only took a four-hour helm shift each day from 08:00 to 12:00 during the second half of Chakotay's sleep shift, while Chakotay took the only eight-hour helm shift during Malakier's sleep shift from 20:00 to 04:00. Although, Kathryn was generally on the bridge with him during the first half of that shift before she went to sleep—working at the science or engineering stations on one project or another. Chakotay then took the helm again from 12:00 to 16:00 and Mala from 16:00 to 20:00. That meant that Chakotay had the helm for twelve hours each day, Kathryn for four and she had it for eight, but Kathryn spent anywhere from eight to twelve hours in engineering or working on other ship's systems.

 

Officially they each had a four hour free shift during which they could do what they liked—gardening, reading, studying, cooking or working on various hobbies. Therefore, Mala generally liked to get all her maintenance work done in the morning. She would then try out various recipes with the help of the computer at lunch, before gardening or studying with Kathryn in the afternoon, and spending at least a relaxing hour with her Craft before returning to the bridge for her second helm shift.

 

She did not spend very much time with Chakotay during the week unless there was maintenance to be done on the bridge, or there was some simulation or diagnostic he wanted to show her during her free period. Some days, other than a few words of report during the change of helm shift, the only time they saw each other was at lunch, which she usually made and dinner, which he usually made during his free period. No one had even suggested that Kathryn should cook—Mala laughed as she began the diagnostic—it was a given that she did not.

 

Chakotay liked to work on the weapons systems in his free time. The improvements to the blasters were his idea, incorporating deflector technology into them, giving them a greater punch to compensate for the loss in power to the energy component caused by making them able to fire on multiple targets at the same time. While the energy blasters by themselves were not able to do much damage against an enemy's shields, the directed deflector burst preceding the blaster fire would be enough to punch holes in the shields so that the blaster shots would be more than effective.

 

She had never heard of anyone doing anything remotely like that to blaster, but she was also learning that they were both as unconventional as they were innovative and had a wealth of knowledge to back them up. Unlike the top and forward mounted phaser compliments, which could only engage one target each at a time, the multi-directional blaster arrays would protect them aft and from the bottom.

 

Chakotay and Kathryn had also managed to bring their missiles to about a quarter the destructive power of their quantum torpedoes or about four times stronger than their standard photon torpedoes, by augmenting each warhead with a minuscule amount of antimatter. Yes, they were definitely people she was glad she had made friends with.

 

Malakier looked with satisfaction at the results of the diagnostic; they all looked clear to her, but Chakotay would make sure of them in the next day or so. She added her own observations and opinions—for what they were worth—and put the tricorder away before climbing down the access hatch to the nacelle interlock relay assembly just aft of the shuttle hold.

 

In this area she was a little more out of her element, needing to rely heavily on the set of instructions and demonstrations Chakotay had given her during the last three times they had done it together. She hated not knowing what she was doing. But until she was more familiar with subspace physics and the stresses involved in moving a ship by warping space, all she could look for were the telltale warning signs in the list he had given her. And gods help them if something subtle occurred that was not on the list.

 

Malakier forced herself to stop worrying as she began the diagnostic—Chakotay or Kathryn would go over her work thoroughly in the next week and survey the assembly themselves at least once a month. She emptied her mind and concentrated on slowly moving through the checklist as she meticulously performed the diagnostic.

 

For forty minutes nothing existed for her but her own breathing and the comforting hum of the ship's systems around her, punctuated by the occasional beep of the diagnostic console as each task was completed and she moved on to the next. When she finished, she closed the console and disengaged it from its port on the main diagnostic array with a sense of relief—no alarms had gone off.

 

A very good sign, but it would be at least another six months before she would have the knowledge to understand the system better and analyse it. _Hopefully_ , she thought in frustration; she still despaired of being able to fully understand the warp system, but all Kathryn would say was give it time.

 

Malakier made her way back up to deck one and through the cargo hold to her quarters where she quickly changed into her exercise clothing, before crossing the hall, letting herself into Chakotay's quarters and leaving the diagnostics on his desk. When he was finished with them he would return the instruments to their proper places. She could not help but listen for the sound of his regular breathing, but there was none—she had been right, he was in Kathryn's quarters.

 

She entered the mess hall smiling; there was a dining table with four chairs under one of the large viewports, and little else but a large comfortable couch that looked out of the other. It was the perfect room for a good bout of exercise; she would leave studying for the hour before she went to sleep. As she caught her left leg behind her head and rose up on the toes of her right, she chuckled at how easily she had adjusted to this regimented lifestyle so far. But it had only been three weeks of actual travel since they had spent almost a month hiding in a binary system while they installed the new weapons systems.

 

She smiled again to the passing stars as she stretched the other leg. It would be good again to make a little luxury of preparing lunch now that things were settling down into a daily routine, as they had been able to do when she had been learning to cook on New Earth, or the times they spent cooking on R&R days. On those days, when Kathryn was not stealing from the pots, she would be curled up on the couch reading, while soft music played, or keeping up an enthusiastic one-sided conversation about something interesting she'd noted about some phenomenon they had passed—Malakier admired that intense curiosity. She bent deeply at the waist and let her head rest against her knees for a few moments before launching herself into her first exercise position, standing on her hands, then moving up onto her fingers and holding it for five to seven minutes. As she began the exercises, she let go of her thoughts. After forty minutes of exercise there would be an entire day for thought, broken only by the hour she would spend meditating with her Craft.

 

****

 


	6. Of Dreams and Dreamers

"Well milady," Chakotay said smiling as he put his arms around Kathryn's waist and drew her to him. "Your steed has been tethered and blanketed for the night."

 

She laughed and kissed him gently, but as he deepened the kiss, grasping her bottom under her smock and pulling her closer, she broke it off asking breathlessly, "Do you intend to bless the bridge again tonight?"

 

He kissed her again and waggled his eyebrows, delighting in the sparkle in her eyes. "I wouldn't mind, but Mala is waiting to officially begin the R&R festivities," he said taking her hand as they exited to the catwalk above engineering. "Well, I'd say things were going smoothly," he commented as they strolled along hand in hand.

 

She yawned as she spoke, "Yes they are, but I don't know—everything seems to be moving along a little too smoothly. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop." He looked down at her in concern and she gave him a wan smile. "I suppose I'm just feeling a little pessimistic about our luck so far, it seems a little too good to be true."

 

He thought about their present situation, in orbit around a small barren planet in an unremarkable F-type system—cloaked but not phased. They were well protected but not impenetrable and it would take her a little while before she was fully relaxed. "I know how you feel," he said softly as they entered the living area. "But we'll be fine—don't worry."   He squeezed her hand gently as they entered the mess hall where Malakier lay lounging on the couch listening to soft music played entirely on bells. "How are things going, Mala?" he asked.

 

"Well," she replied rolling over onto her back as they approached the table. She pointed to the padd on the floor. "I am starting to like this Shakespeare."

 

"Which one are you reading?" Kathryn asked pouring a glass of wine.

 

"I have just finished MacBeth. I did not quite understand all the references, even after asking the computer, but I understood the story," she said grinning. "Your ancestors were almost as devious and as bloodthirsty a people as the Zenprata, Kathryn. It makes me wonder how by the gods you and Chakotay came to be."

 

Chakotay laughed sipping his wine as he headed into the kitchen to prepare a snack. "Shakespeare and MacBeth are part of Kathryn's heritage, Mala. My stories are a little different."

 

"Different?" she asked in confusion. "Your ancestors both came from Earth did they not?"

 

"They did, but from different regions of Earth," Kathryn answered pulling Malakier's legs onto her lap. "Mine are mostly from different parts of Europe including Ireland, England, Scotland and Germany transplanted to North America—"

 

"While mine are mainly from Central and South America with Spanish thrown in," Chakotay said returning with a plate of fruit; bread and cheese-like substance made from a type of mushroom and the bottlebrush potatoes. "Those continents where our ancestors originated were isolated from each other from before the dawn of most written history. The cultures they developed are very different as are the great stories of our different peoples."

 

"Like the way you ask the spirits of your ancestors for guidance, or invoke the gods," she said meditatively chewing on a piece of cheese. "And Kathryn invokes a single god, but it is little more than an expression. Do you not believe in this deity?" she asked curiously.

 

Kathryn smiled as she considered Malakier frankly. "I don't really know that I believe in a god _per se_. I know there are many powerful beings in this universe, but spiritualism has never been my strong suit. I've always been too much of a scientist, believing in the world that science explains. Although, I've meditated on my spirit guide Chakotay introduced me to nearly four years ago, but I don't do it nearly often enough."

 

Malakier nodded as Kathryn ran her fingers through Chakotay's hair. "I have tried to contemplate on a spirit guide myself, but I have had no luck contacting one even with your help. It is however quite relaxing to meditate with my Craft."

 

Chakotay laughed as he met Kathryn eyes. "Perhaps that's because you already have a guide of a sort—"

 

He chuckled at the puzzled look on Malakier's face. "Sometimes, Mala, you surprise me—your Craft, it may be your guide. A spirit guide is a vehicle to help you understand yourself, just because yours is a little more corporeal, doesn't make it any less valid as a guide. Guides are unique to each person, and no two people will have the same guide because each person has their own private belief system—even someone as non-spiritual as Kathryn thinks she is."

 

"Then you do not believe that she is non-spiritual," Mala observed slyly.

 

He chuckled again as he kissed Kathryn's knuckles and looked mischievously into her eyes. "I believe she is very spiritual in her own way—even if she doesn't quite know it."

 

Malakier grinned as she stood and stretched. "Well, I will say good night now and I will see you two at lunch tomorrow. Enjoy your bathtub, Kathryn," she quipped as Chakotay laughed at his lover's blush.

 

"Good night, Mala," he said softly as Kathryn hugged her.

 

"Good night Malakier," Kathryn said as the young woman left. She looked down at Chakotay in mock severity. "So I'm spiritual am I?" she asked softly.

 

"Very," he replied climbing onto the couch, straddling her hips as he untied her smock and unsealed her camouflage suit. Slipping his hands in to free her breasts from her bra, he kissed them, tonguing her nipples erect as she moaned softly, running her hands through his hair.

 

"Chakotay," she gasped. "Perhaps we should take this across the hall," she giggled. "I feel vaguely like I'm going to get caught necking on the living room sofa."

 

He looked into her eyes and kissed her gently as he slid off the couch. "Let me put away the food," he said as she stood and sashayed out.

 

"See you in a few minutes," she purred as she left the mess hall. He shook his head and quickly took the plate of snacks into the kitchen and placed it into the stasis storage. He poured two glasses of wine and went to the mess console to make a quick survey of the sensor systems and the automatic station-keeping program that kept the ship in orbit.

 

After a few minutes, he picked up the glasses and headed to Kathryn's quarters. He grinned as he entered; there was an old fashioned trail to follow—boots, then smock, suit, socks, bra, and finally panties outside the bathroom door. He quickly got rid of his suit and carried the glasses into the bathroom.

 

"What took you so long?" came the smoky voice he loved. "I was beginning to think you couldn't find the place."

 

One gorgeous leg ran along the side of the tub, rising gracefully out of the steam and the bubbles. Only Kathryn's shoulders and head with her glorious mane piled high were also visible.

 

"Oh I'm an excellent Indian tracker," he replied kneeling on the platform beside the tub. He put the glasses of wine on the small shelf above and caressed the length of her leg before easing himself into the water. He cradled both legs in his lap as she spread her arms along the rim of the tub to steady herself.

 

Chakotay loved these moments, when she excited him with little more than a sultry smile and a few soft words. He continued to wordlessly tease her with soft caresses and massages up her legs, then pulled her by them to him. She came willingly, straddling his lap and reaching down between them to encourage his erection with a few strokes as she clamped her mouth passionately to his.

 

As they broke the kiss, he trailed gentle nibbles along her jaw and neck, down her wet skin to her breasts still dripping the frothy, white bubbles. He settled her more securely against him, pulling her bottom to his lap so that he experienced the exquisite feel of the lips of her sex against his erection trapped between her thighs. He moaned as her little movements teased him mercilessly while she kissed his chest and licked his nipples.

 

Kathryn feathered her fingertips slowly, deliberately over the crown of his erection and he could feel his control beginning to strain under the assault of her well-planned campaign. Chakotay manoeuvred her off him so that she stood over him with her hands braced against the wall. He chuckled softly as she gave a little shudder when his fingers brushed lightly through the slick wet curls to the little button of nerve endings he loved to tease. He parted the tender flesh and met her soulful eyes as she moaned, before he brought his lips to meet the soft folds her moist inviting passage.

 

****

 

Kathryn groaned as Chakotay fingers and tongue abandoned her flesh and left her mewling weakly in frustration.

 

He rose to his feet behind her. "I love you," he said huskily into her ear, putting his arms around her from behind and pulling her body to his as she braced her hands against the wall. Water sloshed around their ankles. She could feel his arousal as she pressed back against him, desire singing through her veins.

 

"I love you too," she replied as his hands moved between her legs. "Oh Godddd—please Chakotay," she purred, as he stroked the inside of her thigh.

 

She reached back with a moan and grasped his hard penis in her hand, stroking him gently as he kissed her along her neck and jaw-line. "Take me here—now!" she gasped as his fingers slipped in and out of her hot, wet sex to stimulate the little bud of her clitoris, while his other hand ravaged her nipples.

 

Chakotay's hand fell away from her breast and she moaned in protest, then again with desire as he positioned her legs, parted her labia with his fingers, then thrust inside of her, as she craned her neck around to kiss him passionately as they began to move in tandem. With one hand around her breasts and one insistent against her clit, he began his thrusting in that slow, deliberate rhythm that literally drove her up a wall of incoherence.

 

She met each thrust, twining her hand with his to stroke him where their sexes joined, to feel him wet and slick with her, her fingernails scraping lightly against the cords of his veins. Then his rhythm changed, became rapid and insistent as he called her name in an endless litany of thrusts and she moaned as he pinched one of her sensitive nipples, while increasing his rate of stimulation of her helpless little clit that now seemed to be the focus of her entire being.

 

Kathryn had to press both hands against the wall to keep her balance and trust him to support her as her kness began to turn to jelly and her inarticulate cries became wails of pleasure as he rode into her at rapid-fire speeds. And at the pinnacle of their pleasure, their minds met, he pulled her almost flush against him, and for a moment, each other was all there was in the universe as he gushed into her, hot and wild.

 

****

 

"So you're not going to tell me are you?" Kathryn chided softly as she brought the tricorder for another pass. "Well we'll just have to find out your secrets the old fashioned way, won't we?"

 

Malakier smiled to herself as Kathryn bent to adjust one of the instruments mounted on the Craft and continued her one-sided conversation. "Remember our bargain now, take her out slowly, gently and bring her back safely, ok. She means a lot to us."

 

Malakier drew back from the railing above the engineering bay and held her breath as she thought about Kathryn's soft words, _"She means a lot to us."_

 

She felt the tears well up and leaned weakly against the wall, stroking the soft robe she carried as she waited for the overwhelming emotions to pass. She could sense the ship slowing as Chakotay brought them out of warp so they could begin the test and wiped her eyes. This was what she had been waiting for since Byrilar died over two years before; it was no time for tears. Kathryn smiled at her as she descended the ladder to the floor below.

 

"Are you ready?" Kathryn asked in concern as she looked into Malakier's bright eyes.

 

"Very much so," Malakier replied. "It is just that I was not expecting to feel so emotional—after all, I have done it before."

 

"I know," Kathryn said brushing back her hair, "but each time is different—life is made up of a series of unique experiences. Don't dismiss those feelings so quickly, all right?"

 

Malakier nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment.

 

"Ok, why don't you get ready, and I'll bring the instruments on-line," she said turning back to her workstation.

 

Malakier laid her robe on the nearest console, removed her boots and unsealed her camouflage suit, smiling at Kathryn's politely turned back. She would not have minded if Kathryn had seen her naked, but respected the human privacy taboos even if she did not quite understand them. She caressed Byrillen's stone lovingly before climbing into the Craft's soft interior, which began to flow around and over her body almost immediately as she placed her hands in the control mechanism. She concentrated on keeping it open while Kathryn took her readings. Chakotay entered and knelt by her.

 

"Take care, Mala," he said softly. "Just do what you can as best you can, trust in yourself and in your guide and you'll be just fine."

 

"I will, Chakotay," she replied looking into his eyes.

 

"Don't forget Mala," Kathryn instructed; her voice was slightly hoarse. "After you take her outside the _Phoenix_ , wait about five minutes for me to get a stable lock before you attempt the run. You'll probably pass out of our range fairly quickly, but we'll be here when you return—cloaked, but nothing will move us from this spot. Take it as slowly as you need to and be careful; we'll see you in a little while."

 

"Understood, Kathryn," she replied smiling to dispel the older woman's fears. "Do not worry, we will be fine. See you in a few hours," she said quietly as she began to close the opening.

 

Their faces began to fade and as the nothingness descended, she thought she heard a whisper and felt it envelope her, "We love you." It took an eternity for her to settle beneath that soft blanket of thoughts, before she became aware of her self changing—losing her arms, her legs _herbodyhervoicethoughtsself_ . . .

 

There was an instant of _fearpanicterror_ and the blanket fell away from her naked mind.

 

Her eyes closed and there was no Malakier . . .

 

We are one . . . we are whole . . . we are of the whole . . . we belong . . .

 

They saw the two small beings—these humans, their _fearshopesdreams_ . . . these dreamers who knew not what they dreamt yet taught them to dream . . . the dreamers trapped in the dream of their making—understanding so little yet dreaming with such power . . .

 

They ached to touch the dreamers—knowing that even a gentle caress would destroy the fragile beings . . . they were not for the dreamers . . . they knew where they were to go to assuage the ache . . . to feed . . . into the whole . . . into the belonging . . . into the depths of their being . . . the hunger calls them into the depths and they answer as one . . .

 

****

 

Chakotay watched Kathryn pace worriedly as he turned from checking the bridge sensors on the engineering console to which he'd routed them an hour before. He caught her on her latest pass and pulled her to him.

 

"Kathryn, stop worrying," he said softly, losing himself in those clear blue eyes. "She has barely been gone an hour. By your calculations, she should only be getting to the target area now."

 

She laid her head on his chest for a moment and allowed herself to relax. He could feel some of the tension leave her tiny frame. "You're right," she replied pulling back in his arms. "I just wish I knew more."

 

"Then you'll just have to go on trust," he said. "Trust her instincts and, I guess, trust the Craft to keep her safe."

 

"It wasn't able to before," she replied, looking into his eyes.

 

"We don't know what happened before Kathryn, we may never know," he continued. "But we both know this is something she had to do," he said as she nodded in agreement. "Now why don't you get back to your analysis of her departure—see what little you can glean. I'll even take over the pacing if you like," he chuckled and was glad to see her smile.

 

Kathryn slid into her seat; her small fingers played over the console as her mind got caught up in the heady excitement of a new scientific puzzle. He wondered if she knew how appealing she was when her face took on that extremely intense, almost worshipful look of concentration. He wondered if she realised that she prayed to the gods of subspace field equations, tachyon displacement and stellar physics—gods that had as much of a hold on her soul as his had finally come to in the years after his father's death. He chuckled again, wondering what her spirit guide had turned out to be—one of those deep space organisms she had encountered in her life perhaps? No, somehow he felt it would be something more terrestrial.

 

"What was that laugh for?" she asked curiously eyeing him, even as most of her attention was still on her work.

 

He leaned over her shoulder still chuckling. "I was just wondering what animal a scientist like you would have for a spirit guide," he said.

 

"I thought you said that was between my guide and me," she teased with a small bewitching smile.

 

"It is," he answered, gratified at the playfulness in her voice, which replaced most of her anxiety. "But I can still wonder can't I?"

 

"I suppose so—"

 

The sensor alert interrupted their light banter and they scrambled anxiously to deal with it.

 

"Subspace distortion field forming—" he reported in confusion. "One thousand kilometres aft—it's her Kathryn!"

 

"So soon?" Her anxiety was back in full force. "Something must have gone wrong."

 

"Don't go borrowing trouble, as the old people would say—we'll know soon enough," he chastised. "Can you get a link to the Craft's sensor array?"

 

"Only an intermittent signal," she replied with a puzzled look. "It's as if she isn't fully here yet—the cloak Chakotay, disengage the cloak!" she ordered and he hurried to the console across the engineering bay to comply. As he looked up a moment later, the Craft appeared in its customary place near Kathryn's workstation. He quelled his momentary alarm at the type of radiation it would expose her to, remembering in time that it left no residual radiation—one of its more puzzling aspects. He hurried to her side, where she was examining it closely with the tricorder.

 

"I can't find any change in it from before the start of the experiment," she commented, and then held his hand as it began to open, the cover splitting and lifting back. She bent again to begin her examination of Malakier, lying peacefully submerged in the body of the Craft. The young woman's eyes opened slowly and his heart skipped when she smiled.

 

"Welcome back Mala," Kathryn said as she sat up and held her arms out as trustingly as a child did. Kathryn hugged her as the flesh of the Craft flowed away from Mala's body and Chakotay wrapped her in the heavy robe as she began to shiver. He lifted her up and laid her on one of the small anti-gravity beds they'd built as Kathryn began to take her readings. As she fell asleep, he brought his mind back to their situation and raced back to the cloak's engineering console. A quick scan showed two ships closing fast at extreme sensor range and he cursed silently—no doubt they had detected the transient spatial distortion.

 

"Kathryn," he called as he hurried to her side. "I've got to get back to the bridge and move us out of here—it looks like we're about to have company." He kissed her cheek as she nodded and then bent to kiss Malakier on the forehead. "Welcome back, Mala," he whispered and hurried to the small forward lift. "Get her to bed. I'll keep an open comm-line," he called.

 

"Understood," Kathryn replied as the lift rose quickly to the upper deck.

 

****

 

Malakier woke to a moment of confusion in an unfamiliar place, then recognised Kathryn's bedroom. The confusion cleared and she remembered—her flight in her Craft, the sense of oneness and the sense of belonging. She sat for a moment, probing herself, looking down at her hands in wonder—almost as if she were seeing them for the first time.

 

 _"Are you still with me?"_ she called reaching inside as deeply as she could and lay back for a moment as the strong wave of wholeness, oneness and knowing at that moment she belonged to something washed over her, infusing her with a strength she never knew existed.

 

She climbed out of bed and noticed she was wearing unfamiliar sleepwear; Kathryn's nightgown barely reached to her knees. She stood in the doorway for a long moment watching Kathryn at her desk. Her friend had fallen asleep among her scattered padds and she smiled, making her way over and gently shaking her awake.

 

Kathryn wiped her eyes and smiled as she registered Malakier's presence. "Some nurse I make; I fall asleep on my patient," she quipped, rising and hugging Malakier. "How do you feel?"

 

"Very good," Malakier replied, "a little hungry, but rested now. How long have I been asleep?"

 

"Almost five hours," Kathryn replied as she began to scan her with the tricorder. "Every thing seems fine now—aside from the fatigue, your electrolyte balance was slightly off and your white cell count a little high, but your systems seem to be almost back to normal now. What you need is a good meal—but since I can't cook, it will have to be replicated this once. I think you've had about as much excitement as your systems can take."

 

"Where is Chakotay?" she asked in concern.

 

"He's still at the helm," Kathryn explained. "He's found somewhere safe to rest for the night—we should be there in another hour. Your return attracted some attention to the area we were planning to stay. That reminds me—Janeway to Chakotay, guess who's awake?"

 

"Hi Mala," came his enthusiastic voice.

 

Malakier laughed, pleased at the warm feeling she got when he called her that. "Hello Chakotay," she replied, meeting Kathryn's grin. "How are things up there?"

 

"Just fine, I'll be done here in about an hour—see you soon."

 

"See you soon," she returned. "Kathryn was planning to replicate dinner, but I think I would rather cook. What would you say to mushroom soup, spring rice and salad?"

 

"I would say that sounds heavenly," he sighed and she laughed again. "I'll step on the gas and be there before you know it—Chakotay out."

 

"Step on the gas?" she asked Kathryn in confusion.

 

Kathryn chuckled softly, "Just a phrase he probably picked up from Tom Paris. It's from the time when humans used combustion engines that burned fossil fuels—it generally means that he'll hurry up, I think." She caressed Mala's face gently and asked, "So how was the run? From what I can see you made it all the way, was even able to collect some data on the planets in that area I wasn't expecting, but you returned so quickly, I was afraid something had gone wrong."

 

Mala curled up in the easy chair close to the desk as Kathryn sat across from her. "It was as you said," she replied softly. "Each time is different, every moment unique." She could still feel the wonder of the experience as she spoke. "Each time before this, it was always Malakier inside the Craft controlling it—and it was exhausting to remain so in control. This time was not like that—there was no Malakier, Kathryn," she whispered still in awe of the experience. Kathryn looked at her in concern.

 

"Do not worry," she said hastening to allay her fears. "I am fine. It is just that it was as if I became one with the Craft, this almost overwhelming sense of oneness; a sense not that I belonged, but that _we_ belonged to everything. I had no arms, legs, body, voice—my mind was not my _self_ , and yet it was _me_ out there in the nothingness. There was no Malakier and the Craft, no separateness—there was just the one who belonged. I do not know that I can explain it any better than that, but with that sense of knowing who we were, moving was almost effortless, we were where we belonged, we knew that place and how to draw sustenance from it. We knew what we wanted to do and how to accomplish it, because there was unity."

 

She smiled and reached for Kathryn's hand. "And there is something else Kathryn, it is still within me. I am not sure that it is telepathy or empathy, sympathy—I do not know, for it feels beyond that, just a sense of belonging, that it is with me, that I am not alone even now that I am Malakier again."

 

It was a few moments before Kathryn spoke again, "It sounds like an extraordinary experience. Weren't you frightened of losing yourself like that?"

 

"At first, yes," she replied quietly. "I almost did not give up control, but I think that it was because of your encouragement to bond with the Craft before attempting this run that made the difference."

 

Kathryn came to hug her again tightly. "I'm just glad you're back, and I'm happy that you've found this sense of belonging—I did think you seemed peaceful when we first took you out of the Craft." She smiled as they broke their embrace. "Well my dear, you did promise Chakotay dinner, if you're still up to it. If not, you've condemned the poor man to a fate worse than death, or replicated food, but either way he will be sorely disappointed."

 

Malakier chuckled, "Will you get the mushrooms and the salad fixings? I do not think we have any tomatoes in the kitchen—there were none this morning. I will go shower, change and meet you there in a few minutes."

 

"Will do," Kathryn replied as they exited her quarters. Malakier stopped at the door to her own quarters and smiled fondly as the lift at the end of the corridor descended to the airponics bay—it had been one of the best days of her life.

 

****

 


	7. Outruning the Dark

"Damn!" Chakotay watched Kathryn slam the padd down on the desk of the science station, and drop her head into her hands. She had been working for almost four weeks on the data from Malakier's Craft to no avail. In that time Mala had made two more runs, but Kathryn's attempts to uncover the secrets behind its drive were still frustrated. She knew little more now about how it moved through space than she did at the beginning.

 

He watched her doggedly begin again and blew a sigh through his pursed lips. "Kathryn, it is time you give it a break," he said firmly, rising and moving over to the science station. "You should have been in bed over an hour ago."

 

"I'll go in a few minutes," she replied, not really paying him much attention.

 

He turned her away from the console and cut off her protestations. "You'll go now Kathryn." He hated it when she acted stubborn and obstinate—in the end it only served to deepen his resolve and he hated it when he had to act the tough guy. "The last thing we need is a bleary-eyed pilot in the morning, and I know that this is important, but we agreed that Mala shouldn't have to cover for you again."

 

He could see his argument register, feel her mental wince at his words. A few days before she had overslept because she'd spent almost half her sleep shift working and Malakier had had to pull a shift of almost seven hours alone to compensate. However, if it took playing on that particular guilt to get her to rest, he was glad to do it.

 

"Ok Chakotay," she answered wearily as she saved her files. "You made your point."

 

"Good," he said softly, pulling her out of her chair and holding her tightly for a moment. "We'll be coming up to the borders of the Dark Ones' Territory in less than forty-eight hours and we all need to be alert in case the boundaries have shifted since our last intelligence." He kissed her gently on the lips before releasing her. "In any case, we need to perfect our plan for crossing—so you'll have to put the Craft aside for a little while and concentrate on that. Don't worry, Kathryn, I know it will come to you."

 

She gave a wan smile as she looked into his eyes. "I just wish I understood what was going on—the anti-neutrino and tachyon surges are all wrong. There are verteron particles suggestive of a wormhole, but no thanali waves or any other features that wormholes usually exhibit. I can't even figure out what Byrilar was planning to do with that damned warp core. What the hell did she need all those neutrino collectors for? And there is no way that contraption she cobbled together could possibly work, the only thing it could possibly function as is a very weak tractor or deflector—yet, Malakier is sure Byrilar could make it work."

 

He understood her frustration, but he realised that she sill needed to get to bed. He gave her another brief hug and felt her relax a little. "Why don't you turn in now," he said smiling. "I have to get back to my helm—don't want us to run into a star now do we?" He was rewarded with another brief, tired smile as she squeezed his hand and turned to leave. "And remember, Kathryn, Byrilar had three years to figure this thing out. Give yourself a little time."

 

She smiled gratefully and nodded. "Good night Chakotay," she replied. "And thanks."

 

"You're welcome," he laughed. "Now scat—and don't stay up reading in bed or I'll cut power to your rooms," he threatened, not entirely in jest.

 

"You wouldn't dare," she challenged in outrage.

 

"Oh wouldn't I?" he smirked, slipping back into the helm seat. "Try me."

 

She laughed aloud this time and gave a sigh of defeat. "Not tonight, Chakotay," she replied as she exited the bridge. "But I have a long memory," she called as the doors closed.

 

He chuckled softly to himself as he checked their course and the computer logs for the last few minutes he'd been talking to her—there wasn't anything to warrant concern. They had been travelling for the last week in an area that had an almost deserted feel to it. They hadn't passed another ship in over nine days. The calm before the storm—that's what this place was if these Dark Ones were really as vicious as Malakier said, and she was definitely not one to exaggerate when it came to the abilities of a potential enemy. This area was a buffer zone between them and their neighbours—the ones whose territories they hadn't swallowed up yet.

 

In the four months they had been travelling, the _Phoenix_ hadn't really met with any opposition. They had passed out of the main Kazon held territory nearly two and a half months before and had only seen one convoy of six Vidiian ships on long range scanners. Whenever anything seemed remotely threatening to their lone Talaxian ship, travelling without the protection of a convoy, they quietly cloaked and got out of there as quickly as possible—the only times they had used the phasing mechanism were during its monthly test and maintenance diagnostic. He wondered idly what those ships had thought when the little Talaxian ship had suddenly dropped off their sensors without any apparent explanation.

 

Chakotay understood why Kathryn was so anxious to understand Mala's Craft. In her last run, she had taken it nearly 150 light years round trip in less than three hours and they now had some incredibly detailed maps of the sector ahead. Each time she went out, she was able to push the boundaries of her ability much more easily with almost no consequences to herself.

 

Kathryn had hypothesised that Mala literally became a part of the Craft—it took care of all her needs while she was in it, and that the hunger and fatigue were in part due to the actual separation of the two beings. He found it an amazing thought, to be bound so thoroughly to another being—to become one with it, as Mala expressed it. She had thought her words clumsy as she tried to explain the experience, but if they were, her rapt face was more than eloquent to express her overwhelming emotions. If they could figure out how the Craft managed to travel such great distances so quickly and easily and duplicate it somehow, they would have a chance of catching up to _Voyager_ —a chance of even getting home.

 

He looked at his console again and leaned back into a more relaxed posture as his boards showed clear, undisturbed space ahead. They should arrive at the perimeter in approximately thirty-nine hours and they would hang back about half a light year outside of it while they assessed the aliens' technology and the best way to deal with it using Mala's and Byrilar's system as a guide.

 

Malakier had recommended staying awake for the entire eight or more days it would take to cross, but that was going to be impossible. What they had worked out however, were taking sleep shifts on the bridge—he and Mala would take turns at the helm and which ever one was free would man the tactical station, while Kathryn would always be on call in engineering.

 

Two narrow anti-grav beds were secured against the port wall behind him and they had installed a small storage unit for food supplies against the starboard wall just in front of the science station. With the small washroom at the back just off the lift doors, they could remain easily in the environs of the bridge and engineering for at least ten days.

 

He quelled the gnawing worry in the pit of his gut—more than likely, their cloak and phasing ability would be more than enough to get them through, and in any case, it was no use borrowing trouble before its time.

 

****

 

"I don't like that look, Kathryn," Chakotay said softly as she entered the bridge and sat tiredly in the middle chair. Malakier looked up wearily from her sleep pallet where she had been making ready to go to bed.

 

Kathryn chewed on her lip for a moment before she spoke, "I finally figured out what those intermittent high-energy traces were—site to site transporters, with incredibly tight confinement beams . . . probably only meant for one person." Malakier met her eyes in surprise, unable to contain her shock. "The trouble is it appears that there are so many of them, everyone must have one."

 

"That must be how they get in and out of the ships they detect," Mala said quietly as she sat up. Chakotay nodded grimly, still watching Kathryn's face. "No wonder no one survives an encounter," she continued. "They not only drain all the ship's systems, they must also board it and make sure the crew is dead—take what they want."

 

"We've been keeping track of the patrols," Chakotay reported quietly, as if to raise his voice would attract the Dark Ones' attention. "They've settled into a predictable pattern of light patrols, while the main body of ships continue to hold their positions. With Mala and Byrilar's system, matching our shields to the tachyon sensor web won't be too much of a problem, but it's that dampening field that's going to be a problem." Mala nodded slowly, it had always been one of the problems Byrilar had trouble solving. "If we could deal with that, I'm sure we could make the crossing in four days at warp 7.5."

 

"I'm working on that right now," Kathryn replied gravely. "However, given the power of that resonant particle wave the matrix of ships put out, it doesn't look like we are going to be able to phase, unless we do it out here beyond their boarders. But I have no idea how the mechanism would react to a matrix that dense across subspace—and there is also the problem of crossing the tachyon web while phased. That is something I definitely do not recommend unless we want to remain phased out of this reality permanently. Even cloaking is going to be a problem if the warp field is dampened too much, and I wouldn't recommend it even at low warp unless absolutely necessary."

 

"What about those inferometric pulses they used to disable the Akritiri ship's shields?" Chakotay asked as Kathryn again met his eyes. "Even a defence against that would be a great help—the individual ships in the swarm don't seem to be able to go faster than warp 4.5."

 

Malakier read the look that passed between them—no luck there yet.

 

Four days before, about an hour after they had arrived, an Akritiri ship had breached the sensor web and within ten minutes had been swarmed by thousands of small alien ships. Kathryn and Chakotay had wanted to go to their aid, but Mala had been adamant, and by the time they had exchanged a few angry words, it had been too late—the main body of the Dark Ones' ships were already moving off.

 

Kathryn had stormed away. Her face dark with impotent rage as Mala had shouted, "I do not understand why you would be willing to risk all our lives for a ship-load of Akritiri who were stupid enough to get caught. They would not have extended a hand to help us if we had been in trouble!"

 

Malakier realised now as she looked at Kathryn's tired face that the last time she had seen the other woman so angry with her was back on New Earth, the day she had told Kathryn about her nightmare and that she had witnessed them making love. Chakotay had tried to explain to her why Kathryn had been so angry about the deaths of the Akritiri. It was against their nature to sit back and just do nothing when someone was in peril, he'd said, but Malakier had only felt that they were taking their altruistic feelings way too far.

 

He and Kathryn had actually started making plans to help the foolish Akritiri when the argument had begun—speaking in rapid-fire sentences and finishing each other's ideas—as they made ready. But Mala had been at the helm and she hadn't been about to risk their ship to aid a bunch of idiots trying to take a short cut in a ship barely faster than a garbage scow with the armament to match.

 

However, as Malakier lay back down on her pallet, Kathryn went back to engineering and Chakotay returned his attention to the helm, she got the disturbing feeling which had been dogging her for the past few days, that she had disappointed them in some deep way.

 

****

 

Malakier kept her eyes on her console as Chakotay slid into the seat of the tactical station. He smelled of fish sandwiches, starflower fruit juice, sweat and tension—not that she smelled any better. He had just finished lunch with Kathryn who had headed back to engineering as soon as she had finished.

 

It had been two days since they had slipped across the tachyon perimeter web with their shields in a matching configuration and watched as their velocity dropped slowly to warp 6, which they were struggling to maintain against the dampening field. That had been the best Kathryn could do, which was impressive considering she and Byrilar had only managed warp 4.1. If they continued at this pace, occasionally dropping to warp 4.5 so that they could remain undetected while they vented warp particles that built up in their warp core as a result of the resonant particle wave, they could be across in another four days.

 

As she began the downward deceleration to warp 4.5 she heard Chakotay mutter, "Heads up, it looks like we have company." Malakier glanced anxiously at the viewscreen, which showed a small alien craft approaching. "Steady Mala," he breathed softly. "Keep taking us down—we have to vent those warp particles or we'll damage the core. If that happens, we'll really be in for it." She nodded as she kept her eyes on the display. "Chakotay to Janeway. I think we've been spotted."

 

"I have him on sensors," Kathryn replied. "I don't think he has us locked in yet so continue to decelerate—once we're at warp 4.5 we can start to very slowly vent, it will take me about eight to ten minutes. But once we're all clear Mala, take us down further to warp 4 and I'll engage the cloak—after that we should clear his range in about twenty minutes."

 

"Understood, Kathryn," Malakier said confidently as a little of the tension bled out of her. She had performed this manoeuvre so many times now it was almost second nature. She watched as her warp velocity continued to drop almost excruciatingly slowly as they inched towards the edge of the theoretical range of the alien ship's sensors as well as Chakotay could calculate.

 

She listened with only part of her attention as Kathryn began to vent the warp particles as she concentrated on maintaining a stable warp field at warp 4.5. "All clear," she heard Kathryn report. "All buffers purged—Malakier! What are you doing?" she heard Kathryn scream over the com and she looked at the climbing warp velocity indicator in horror as it jumped from warp 4.75 to warp 4.8—she was supposed to be slowing down! In her panic she began to decelerate again—too quickly!

 

She heard Chakotay shout "No!" and realised she had done the wrong thing as the _Phoenix_ was rocked by fire from the other ship. "Continue to accelerate," Chakotay shouted now. "Our best chance is to outrun them. Kathryn, that polaron burst—now everyone knows where we are! Can you still engage the cloak?"

 

"No!" she shouted. "It would only make us more conspicuous. Hold on—I'm going to try rotating shield frequencies. It should counter the effects in a few minutes!"

 

"We don't have a few minutes!" he returned frantically. "Ships converging from fore and starboard—since the Akritiri phaser energy was directed back at them by the inferometric pulses, I'm going to try the blasters."

 

After only a few moments of watching ships being destroyed like flies, Malakier felt her heart constrict at the sheer masses of them. Chakotay was destroying them almost ten at a time but still they came in an almost solid mass, blotting out the stars.

 

"Inferometric pulses weakening port shields amid-ships!" Kathryn shouted. "Attempting to compensate—Chakotay! Domino effect—the matrix only consists of the central ships in each cell, the others only send out one pulse to the node. Target the ships sending out the most pulses, and the others in that cell should be destroyed in a cascade—"

 

Her voice was drowned in a piercing scream that cut to Malakier's soul as Chakotay shouted in anguish, "Kathryn!"

 

"She's unconscious! Reading three life-forms in engineering—they're headed for the bridge!" Mala shouted.

 

"Raising containment field," he replied. There was a ruthless viciousness in his voice that made her glance at his face, and she saw murder in his eyes. "Hold us to the highest warp velocity possible and take us straight into the heart of those bastards!" he ordered as they plunged into the swarm.

 

Around them, ships blew up in roiling masses by the hundreds as the blasters spewed out powerful deflector pulses that almost made the energy component of the blaster superfluous—almost. As the nodal ships blew up, so did the fifteen or twenty connected to it—she had never seen such fury or carnage, felt such hatred from one person as she fought to keep them to warp 7.

 

"They're breaking off their attack," Malakier shouted urgently. "I'm only reading Kathryn's life signs in engineering—take a bed and go get her," she ordered sternly as the swarm dropped behind them. "I'm dropping the containment field—"

 

As he ran out with one of the anti-grav beds and the med-kit, she looked ahead at the stars, willing the tears back into the depths, wishing once again for her iron control that never would have failed her before. Her mistake had got Kathryn hurt—almost cost her life and still might. She swallowed the sob that rose involuntarily; she forced herself to keep her eyes on the tactical display slaved to her helm console as he arrived with Kathryn.

 

****

 

Kathryn woke to a pounding head on the dark, silent bridge—her vision blurred. "Hey," Chakotay said softly as he gently pushed her shoulders back. "Lie still—you've been unconscious for almost ten hours. You were hit with a neural disrupter, but you'll be fine in a few days."

 

"The swarm—" she said thickly and he held a glass of water to her dry lips as she drank gratefully.

 

"We're fine—Mala and I are both fine," he replied softly. "We should be out of their territory in about twenty hours now that they're not bothering us anymore. The blurriness in your eyes will clear up in about five hours—so rest now."

 

"You understood?"

 

"Yes." She could hear the smile in his voice. "As soon as we destroyed the nodal ones, about fifteen to twenty blew up—we made quite a dent in their forces in this sector I would say. Since then, no one has bothered us and we've been able to hold between warp 7 and warp 8 without needing to slow down to vent warp particles." He brushed her hair gently and kissed her on the lips. "I'll put you back to sleep now and your eyes will be fine when you wake up again."

 

"Ok," she replied softly. "Good night. Good night, Mala, see you in the morning," she said sleepily as he administered the hypospray.

 

From far away, she heard Malakier's voice whisper, "Good night Kathryn."

 

****

 

Chakotay studied Malakier as he finished storing his environmental suit and they prepared to return the shuttle to the _Phoenix_. He had been repairing the shield emitters damaged by the swarm as they orbited peacefully around the frozen moon of a gas giant planet just two days after leaving the Dark Ones' territory, while Mala backed him up in the shuttle. "Malakier to Janeway," she called formally. "Chakotay is on board safely; repairs are finished. Prepare for docking."

 

"I'm ready, Mala," Kathryn returned cheerfully. "Your attitude is good—bring her home. I'm starving, when's lunch?"

 

"Just as soon as we dock," Chakotay replied laughing as Malakier brought the shuttle up into its bay. "Pasta with Talaxian tomato sauce and vegetables—we'll even spring for some real replicated Parmesan cheese. See you in a few minutes."

 

"You're docked, engaging seals and integrity fields now. I'm looking forward to it," she called; her voice still filled with laughter. "See you in a bit. Janeway out."

 

He looked at Malakier as she powered down and the door of the shuttle opened, barely clearing the hull. "You've been quiet for the past few days," he commented as they gathered up the repair gear.

 

"Have I?" Her voice was bland, formal as she attempted to move past him.

 

He caught her arm to stop her. "What's wrong, Mala?" he asked in concern. "We made it past the Dark Ones safely—I thought you'd be happy. Did I say something to offend you?"

 

She jerked her arm away roughly and began to cry softly. "Why do you still care? Why are you not angry with me?" she asked turning from him.

 

He looked at her in puzzlement, unsure whether he should reach for her again. "Angry? Why should I be angry with you, Mala?" he asked in confusion.

 

She continued to cry for a few moments before she answered. "I nearly got Kathryn killed! Why are you not angry Chakotay? Why is she not angry?"

 

He looked at her in shock and cursed himself for not realising her emotional state before as gathered her in his arms and held her as she cried. He had been so intent on making sure Kathryn hadn't suffered any permanent damage from the neural disrupter, he had forgotten about Malakier.

 

"It was a mistake Mala," he replied stroking her hair. "Kathryn is fine and I don't blame you for that. We all make mistakes—"

 

"I do not make mistakes!" she shouted tearfully as she broke their embrace. "I would never have made such a mistake—not before!" She leaned against the wall, shoulders heaving as she sobbed. "Gods—look at me. Standing here crying and there is so much still to be done."

 

He reached for her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "And believe it or not, Mala, crying is a good thing. It shows you care enough for Kathryn to cry for what might have happened—but it didn't happen, and she's safe, Mala. I prefer this person before me now to the cold, formal automaton who helped me with the shields this morning. It's good to know you care that much and contrary to what you feel now, everyone is allowed to make mistakes—even the Great Malakier."

 

"What if she had died?" she asked softly.

 

"I don't know," he replied in a hoarse voice. "But she didn't die and that's the main thing, Mala, remember that. When it all came down to it, we worked together to pull her through this crisis—that's a more important thing to remember than the mistakes we made. The best thing to do with mistakes is learn from them, understand where we went wrong and try not to make the same ones again if we can, but blaming yourself does no one any good Malakier, least of all, you."

 

She nodded and dried her eyes as she met his. He smiled and picked up his gear as she did the same.

 

"Now, what do you say we go and make lunch before Kathryn takes it into her head to poison us all," he quipped, the weight on his heart lightening as she gave a small smile and preceded him into the turbolift up to the living deck. They smiled to each other as they entered the mess hall, dropping their gear on the couch before entering the kitchen. They worked quickly to finish their lunch as Kathryn kept up a running commentary from the bridge and he was glad to hear Mala return some of the light banter. He would have to talk to Kathryn later about Malakier's guilt.

 

Kathryn grinned appreciatively from the engineering station as they arrived on the bridge with lunch. "It's about time you guys got here," she said appreciatively as Malakier spread the cloth on the deck and put down the cooler of juice. Chakotay laughed as he placed the tray of food down before giving the helm console a cursory glance. "Nothing on long range sensors," she reported as she sat down next to Malakier. "I've taken care of the damage to the plasma conduit—it was relatively minor and I should be finished with the warp diagnostic by 19:30."

 

Chakotay smiled as they began to eat. "I'll take a walk through of the main conduits before you perform the diagnostic and do a thorough check-up of the nacelle interlock assembly to make sure the dampening field from the resonant particle wave didn't cause any stress lines or fractures."

 

Kathryn nodded with her mouth full and took a drink of juice. "I for one am certainly glad that's over," she pronounced when she could.

 

Malakier laughed, "Imagine if you had to go the long way around. Byrilar and I did it once—and once was more than enough, believe me. Definitely safer—but even in this ship, it would be enough to drive you mad. In any case, we should be at the Gateway station to the Nekrit Expanse in two months—two-and-a-half on the outside."

 

Kathryn looked at her in astonishment and Chakotay gave them both a puzzled look. "You're right Mala!" Kathryn shouted, startling the young woman. "Gods, am I ever a candidate for the Dunce Academy! I can't believe I didn't think of it before—"

 

"You mind telling us what you're talking about?" Chakotay asked in confusion.

 

"Tuvok, Chakotay!" she gasped in excitement as she gulped her juice. "Tuvok would have gone around—I'm almost sure of it. It would have been the most logical thing to do and would have been in accordance with the Prime Directive."

 

Her excitement was infectious as he began to grasp the importance of what she was telling him. "Mala's information says that Tuvok passed through the Gateway to the Nekrit Expanse a little over ten months ago—and we'll be passing through it only a year after them although they had a two year head start."

 

She threw her arms around Malakier happily, who looked up at Chakotay in surprise.

 

Chakotay laughed as he looked at the two of them. "I never thought I would be so happy for Vulcan logic or something that added a year to the crew's journey," he commented and Kathryn turned to hug him also. He smiled into her brimming eyes and kissed her tenderly. "Well it looks like we've made up almost a year," he said happily. "We'll just have to see how many more short-cuts we can find. Mala, what about the space between here and the Expanse? Tell us a little about the species that we're likely to meet.

 

Malakier regarded the two of them thoughtfully. "As you know, I have only been beyond the Dark Ones' territory four times and into the Expanse twice—once as far as one of the Kolaati colonies, although it is not on our route. Between here and the Expanse, there is little of interest unless you need to trade for supplies—then I would suggest the Nechani. They are a rather religious people, and considered by most to be very scrupulous. I have only had reason to visit their world once," she said grinning at them and shaking her head.

 

"For re-supply, not business," she laughed. "Most are far too gentle to make any real personal enemies, although they are formidable enough to defend their world. Only the Ilari I suppose would be much of a threat. But they are a species most avoid and from my last intelligence, there was too much happening on their own home planet with a massive civil war raging for them to pay much attention to outsiders who pass beyond their boundaries. There are also the Enarans, a telepathic species—they have a few scattered colonies close to our route and some technology I am told, but I have not had any contact with them.

 

"However, for some reason, they do possess a bad reputation among older traders that goes back a rather long time—forty, fifty years or more. But I have never had any reason to really pay attention to them, so I do not know the nature of what they are supposed to have done. Most people tend to dismiss it as old prejudices, but I do not know. Those who have told me to stay away from the Enarans have tended to be in excellent standing and of good reputation—they say that the Enarans hide much about their culture and cannot be trusted. There are a few other species, but they are largely unimportant and most do not possess high warp capabilities."

 

Chakotay grinned at her measure of importance, but he supposed when you go down to it, he and Kathryn—the Federation itself also used warp capability as a measure, not of importance, but of level of technological development. "Which of those species are we likely to encounter first?" he asked still smiling.

 

"The Enarans are the closest," she replied. "Then the Nechani and followed by Ilari. After that you have the Tak-Tak, a highly annoying people who are very easily insulted if their language protocols are not precisely followed. Unless you are looking for an exercise in frustration and futility, I would suggest just cloaking and passing their worlds without even a hail. Even for simple bargaining, they are far more trouble than they are worth. I nearly ended up shooting one out of sheer annoyance."

 

She grinned at Chakotay and he joined Kathryn's soft chuckles at her exaggerated outrage. "Then there are a few scattered Garan colonies before you come to the Gateway to the Expanse. In all, it should take about two months at warp 7.3, but I have almost no experience in the Expanse and only some very old cartographic data on the first ten light years. There are people I can deal with on the station to purchase charts, but most are disreputable. Perhaps I can make a foray into the Expanse with my Craft to do some reconnaissance. We can at least get fairly accurate cartography although we will not have much information on the individual species and their territorial boundaries."

 

Kathryn pounced on her suggestion enthusiastically as she finished her fruit cup. "That's a brilliant idea," she said eyes dancing. "And I may even have a way for you to get us more maps of territorial boundaries deeper into the Expanse if they're available."

 

"How?" Chakotay asked intrigued.

 

"Well we have fairly decent cartographic data delineating the boundaries of the different species for the first ten light years," she answered with an impish gleam in her eyes. "We can overlay that on top of what Mala's Craft collects. I would bet that the cartographic resolution of that map would be like nothing that any of the cartographers on the station would have seen before. If Mala could come up with a plausible story of how she came by it, she could probably sell it for data on the next sector within the expanse—maybe another ten to twenty light years. The only thing is that we won't be able to tell if they give us the correct data."

 

Malakier grinned, "If they are dealing with me they will, and I know just who to go to—the station master Bahrat." Her smile curved wider as she met their eyes. "I just will not tell him that I have given up my former profession. He has seen my work and will not want to see it demonstrated again, particularly on his own person. He likes his twenty percent commissions too much."

 

****

 

"Lady Malakier." The station manager's voice was deep and rumbling, carrying a note of suspicion as he said Mala's name.

 

Kathryn watched the meeting on the forward viewscreen carefully; Chakotay would also be watching in the shuttle, ready to pull Mala out if she got into trouble. They had tapped into the station's own surveillance system to monitor the transaction. She held her breath as Malakier returned his greeting coolly, "Station Master Bahrat, it is good to see you again."

 

"I am honoured you remember me Lady," he replied respectfully. Kathryn could see his mind racing in those dark sunken eyes. "How may I be of service today?"

 

Mala leaned back in her seat, relaxed and very deadly looking. Kathryn wondered how she managed it, and decided it was in her eyes as much as in the demeanour of her body. "I have accepted a contract," she replied, and then smiled at the station manager's obvious discomfort—a smile that did not reach her eyes. "You have nothing to worry about," she continued placidly with the unspoken "yet" hanging between them as Bahrat nodded. "It is on a world in the Expanse."

 

"Ah, I understand," he replied in relief. "Would you require the same return arrangements as before?"

 

Kathryn smiled at the mercenary look of the station manager as Malakier continued. "On a contingency basis—my account here is still in excellent shape. The standing arrangements are still in place?"

 

It was not a question, but a threat as Bahrat moved wordlessly to display Mala's escape plan on one of his viewscreens. She studied it intently and then smiled again, a little more warmly. "Excellent. I am willing to spend fifty thousand for you to have it ready in twenty days—however, as I have acquired a new ship, it may not be necessary. You will receive a commission of six thousand now and four thousand in twenty-one days after I leave here regardless of whether or not I use this place on my return. If I do use you, you will be paid a bonus of five thousand for your trouble and if I do not, you will receive fifteen hundred for your discretion and my continuing gratitude. The details of the additions and changes to our arrangements are with my Gredan Banking Factors here, you will receive them five days after I leave."

 

Kathryn watched him try to contain himself as he tried not to let his excitement show at the prospect of making fifteen thousand credits in this transaction or at the least eleven point five thousand. All the details of her return journey had been as genuine as they could make them and regardless, fifty thousand credits would be spent setting up her concealment on board the station and escape. "Understood, Lady Malakier," he replied in a tone of even deeper respect. "I assume that your new crew is also included in this? I heard about the Lady Byrilar."

 

Mala's gaze hardened perceptibly. "Yes, the crew is included," she replied. "They consist of two Talaxians, but they have served well—so far." Kathryn chuckled at that as Malakier continued, drawing out a data chip and handing it to him, "I also have here a map of the first ten light years in which my objective is located. It is highly detailed cartographically, but I would like the details of the territorial boundaries verified. I have no intention of walking in there with what I have been given. What you do with the copies you make of it is your business."

 

"Understood," he replied. "Time frame?"

 

"You have six standard hours for the verification and thirty hours for the next task," she replied. "I also want the best maps you can find of the territories beyond those ten light years—at least to fifty light years, complete with the most up to date species dossiers, alliance affiliations and boundary disputes. Item, accuracy and reliability are musts. Item, you may include rumour and speculation to your taste, but those must be clearly indicated as not being fact. This package is worth personally to you, two thousand credits and if you can manage as much as one hundred light years subject to the same conditions, you will receive an additional two thousand and a bonus of one thousand."

 

"Understood," he breathed, barely able to believe his fortune. His happy expression faded under Mala's considering gaze. "May I ask why?"

 

"I have clients for them," she replied placidly. "And I would also like to make sure I have as many details as I possibly can on various alliances of those who have hired me. I have not survived this long by relying on what I have been given."

 

"Of course, Lady," Bahrat returned rising with her and giving a short courteous bow. "It will be done. Will your crew be coming on station?"

 

"No," she answered firmly, "most definitely not. Talaxians are loyal as far as it goes, but they also have a tendency to find trouble and that I can not afford at this time."

 

Bahrat laughed heartily as he spoke, "Tell me of it Lady. About a year back another Talaxian got himself into trouble here." Kathryn leaned forward eagerly waiting for news of her ship. "He met up with another of his species—a convict stranded here and well trouble is not how I would describe what they got into. Trafficking drugs for the Kolaati as well as high grade plasma from the Talaxian's ship—which did not belong to him—but to an advanced species from the other side of the galaxy."

 

"What did you give him?" Mala asked in amusement, as Kathryn's heart fell. "Fifty years cryostatic suspension?"

 

"No, his ship's master made a deal for him," Bahrat laughed. "Although I do not know why he would want one so stupid. It was mostly the doing of his friend who used the poor fool—he only wanted maps of the Expanse so he could keep his position as a guide and cook on the ship. In exchange for helping me capture the Kolaati, he was allowed to leave with the ship—although I cannot guarantee that the ship's master did not shoot the idiot himself. He looked most displeased."

 

Kathryn giggled softly at the thought of a displeased Tuvok.

 

Mala's lips quirked as she turned to go, "My Talaxians will no doubt be contacting you about their needs soon enough," she said, "take their orders and have them ready for when I depart. I will remain on station for thirty hours and my ship will leave within thirty-five. Good day, Master Bahrat."

 

"Good day, Lady Malakier," he replied as she left his office. Kathryn continued to monitor him, while Chakotay would monitor Mala from the shuttle. True to Mala's predictions, the first thing Bahrat did was to call for the latest news on Malakier of the Poirolton Mercenaries from a trader he used—news, rumours and innuendo they had personally viewed, edited and added to where convenient while cloaked the week before. Then they had returned to a position outside the station's sensors and came in uncloaked at warp 5. Bahrat seemed satisfied with what he'd received, but none-the-less made the communications connection Kathryn had been waiting for.

 

"This is Alixia of Malakier's ship," she answered, smiling at Bahrat's image on the forward viewscreen. "How may I help you station master?" She ran a spotted hand through her tuft of hair; as much as she hated it, the disguise was necessary.

 

"Your mistress said that there are some things you would like me to purchase for you and your crewmate," he said affably.

 

"Yes," Kathryn said sullenly, slipping into her role. "I am transmitting now. My crewmate says to make sure the Kovari Sauce is fresh."

 

"It must be difficult not being able to leave the ship," he commiserated and she shrugged nonchalantly. "I was curious why you should sign on with one of the most notorious Mercenaries of Teerixi."

 

Kathryn considered him a moment then answered; "She pays well and is one of the more reasonably honourable ones as far as it goes. After all, if I make a mistake, at least she will not go after my family—my children in revenge. She settles only with those who cross her and she always seems to know exactly who it is—always."

 

He frowned meditatively; "Yes. Well what of the news from Teerixi?"

 

Kathryn raised her eyebrows and looked at him directly. "You want me to talk about my employer's business?"

 

"No, no," he placated her quickly. "It is just that there have been some interesting rumours about the Zenprata Empire, as well as the Nistrim and the reason they are running from half the Kazon sects even as far as the Dark Ones' space."

 

Kathryn chuckled and leaned forward conspiratorially. "Is this a secure channel?" she asked sweetly.

 

****

 


	8. Into the Expanse

"I would say that went well," Malakier laughed as the station fell behind them.

 

"What will happen to Bahrat when the Ganthins find out that he corrected the "mistake" he made on your map?" Kathryn asked curiously as she remembered the station manager's hasty retraction of the fact that two systems along their route actually did belong to the Ganthins, when Mala made it clear she knew about his meeting with the Ganthin representative.

 

"Nothing," Mala answered with a grin as she double-checked the tactical display. "He probably will not even have to give back his fee or hire bodyguards. The Ganthins need his station far too much and they cannot afford an unknown quantity taking his place. Bahrat only does things he knows either is of no danger to him or can not be traced back to him—it is how he has stayed in power for over twenty-five years and why he owns nearly thirty-five percent controlling interest in the station. Do not worry about him. With what he made off my dealings with him this time, you can be sure he has been well compensated for any inconvenience."

 

"I take it then the Ganthins still hold a grudge against you for General Harg," Chakotay said quietly from the helm.

 

Malakier nodded solemnly. "It would be best if we cloak once we come into range of their boundaries in four days. It will take approximately nine days to cross their space at warp 7." She smiled again as she continued. "You realise, that though we can make the cartographic content of the maps much more detailed, the information on the various species is still rather sketchy and most of it only rumours. After the first ten to fifteen light years, we are really on our own again—and most of the species we are likely to meet, may not be inclined to help us much."

 

"The uncertainty is part of the adventure," Chakotay quipped, and was rewarded by soft laughter. "At least we have some information on the next hundred light years."

 

"When are we going to try the next cartographic run?" Mala asked thoughtfully.

 

"I think after we're past Ganthin and Kaalati space," Kathryn answered. "About four weeks from now. There is an inversion nebula indicated; which according to the maps is very old—it should be fascinating."

 

"What is so unusual about that?" Malakier asked curiously.

 

Kathryn smiled as she came to stand behind them. "If it's as old as they say it is—the question would be why the plasma streamers haven't ignited the whole thing and destroyed it. However, considering the nature of your entry into subspace, it would be best if we avoided entering it at least until after the run. As well, cloaks are not known to work well inside of nebulas—and certainly not one as unstable as an inversion nebula would be. Phasing would definitely be out of the question."

 

"Then depending on the people in that area," Malakier observed, "it probably would be best if you limited study to the long range sensors."

 

Kathryn sighed softly as she replied, "You're probably right."

 

"You do not mind then," Malakier said anxiously and Kathryn smiled again to soothe her anxiety.

 

"No I don't mind," she said squeezing Malakier's shoulder affectionately. "With my mind back full time on the problem of the Craft's propulsion system, I probably will have forgotten all about the nebula by the time we get there. It was only my love for anomalous things speaking just now—my love for looking under every rock in the universe, but spatial anomalies are nothing compared to the mysteries of your Craft, believe me."

 

"How is the research coming?" Chakotay asked, keeping his attention on the helm.

 

"Slowly," she answered quietly as she moved back towards the science station. "The only thing new I can say for certain is that Byrilar did intend to use that invention of hers as a sort of low intensity deflector—but the only problem is that the power distribution is too diffuse and weak, it wouldn't be able to move anything."

 

"Perhaps she never meant it to move anything," Malakier observed as she turned to face Kathryn.

 

"Perhaps," Kathryn agreed slowly.

 

"What else can you use a deflector for?" Chakotay asked quietly.

 

"That's what I've been studying," Kathryn replied. "I wish I had more of Voyager's database though, with some of the more obscure research—I have this feeling that there is something right in front of me that I'm just not seeing, but I don't know what it is," she finished in frustration.

 

Chakotay laughed and met her eyes for a moment. "It will come to you," he said grinning as he turned his attention back to the helm. "It always does."

 

****

 

Kathryn leaned back into Chakotay as she finished pruning the starflower plants, and he circled her in his arms and laid his chin on her head. He ran a hand up over her abdomen and breasts and she sighed contentedly at the sensations through the thin dress, sinking deeper into his embrace.

 

"What are you thinking about?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

 

"That our daughter might have been Mala, had you really been pregnant," he replied, and Malakier stiffened as from a blow, turning in time to see the stunned look on Kathryn's face. She had gone looking for them to go over a problem with the cartographic imaging table with Kathryn, but had turned to leave when it became obvious that they were having some private time.

 

Kathryn's expression changed to one of guilt and profound sorrow as she looked down at her hands covering the one of his resting on her abdomen. His other hand stroked her hair gently as she asked hoarsely, "What do you mean?"

 

"Last night, when Mala was talking about Byrillen as a baby, I found myself wondering what it might have been like to have had one," he said and turned her to face him. "Not that I'm thinking that we should right now," he continued quickly. "But as I watched Mala last night, I realised she has never spoken of her childhood other than the brief description she gave us when we first met her, and I understood even more why you were so afraid to have a child on New Earth. It really struck home what I might have condemned our child to and I realised again how badly I'd hurt you. Our child might have been Malakier, Kathryn, abandoned in that deserted place if we had died—scratching out an existence in the dirt."

 

Malakier watched the tears flow down his face as he pulled Kathryn more tightly to him. "I heard her crying in my dreams last night—I'd never dreamt of her before, not even after I understood that it hadn't been a baby. Intellectually, I knew why the reasons you gave were frightening, but not emotionally—not until I heard her crying to be fed … to be held … to be loved … howling in loneliness and pain. I can't believe someone abandoned Mala like that, yet I was willing to put my child through the same thing. I have to believe that someone meant to come back for Mala—that the Craft was meant to be some type of stasis chamber perhaps, or at least to keep her safe until she was old enough, until she was ready to seek out her people."

 

He laughed gently, "I must admit, I spent a few hours last night trying to think of reasons someone had gone through the trouble to hide her—perhaps she's an important princess they had to save from assassins and that they truly meant to come back for her. Maybe the one who hid her was killed and her people didn't know where to look for her—I don't want to think that she landed in that situation because of thoughtlessness or by design."

 

Malakier felt the tears flowing down her cheeks as she flattened against the wall near the doorway. "It wasn't thoughtlessness," Kathryn whispered, barely audible to her. "I wanted a child too Chakotay—I've always wanted children and sometimes I'm afraid that we'll never be able to have one, but we can't dwell on might-have-been, Chakotay or we'll be swallowed up by the past. Right now we have each other and we have Mala; she isn't that child anymore, and we'll make sure she won't be left crying for hunger or love or someone to hold her again. If we can't find her people, at least we won't leave her like that again if we can help it."

 

Malakier slipped out of the airponics bay and into engineering, hurrying up to deck one and to the living quarters. She felt the pull of the Craft and ignored it as she hurried into her rooms—she had to think through what she'd just heard. The tears continued to flow ceaselessly as she lay on her bed looking out at the beautiful veil of the nebula just beyond the viewport. She had known they cared for her, they had shown it in so many ways, but she had been afraid to look at how deeply—she certainly had not expected it to be on the level of a daughter.

 

She gave a wry chuckle; she was nearly as old as they were chronologically, but that would not matter to them, and she was more to them than a mere substitute child they couldn't have, of that she was certain.

 

Malakier wondered what had made them believe Kathryn was pregnant; surely their medical technology would have told them one way or another, but it was clear that this had a lot to do with them not talking to each other for over six months. He had wanted to keep the child, to hold it, love it and watch it grow and she had not, fearing they would die and leave it alone to fend for itself. It had nearly cost them their relationship, their love, but they had been willing to risk everything they had fighting for their child, each in their own way—and they would fight for her, she was sure of that now.

 

 _They would fight for me and not give up_ , she thought pulling a pillow close and hugging it tightly as she closed her eyes. A curious sense of peace and exhaustion came over her as she drifted off to sleep. They would fight for her because they loved her.

 

****

 

Kathryn watched the impressive vastness of space unfold before her as the ship streaked through the stars at a velocity undreamed of by many of the beings on multitudes of worlds they would never know. After all, though space may seem populated by many species, the thousands or even millions of species they might encounter in the dark probably did not even make up one percent of the species existing in this single, unremarkable galaxy. She remembered how exciting and large space had felt the first time she had ventured into it—a trip to Mars with her father when she was a girl. She remembered the awe she had felt as a cadet during her training missions and she remembered the indescribable beauty she had seen in it on her first deep space mission as a green ensign. She smiled to herself, in many ways those young women she had been had never left her, and that, she thought wryly, was a good thing.

 

She checked the helm readouts automatically; Chakotay wasn't scheduled to relieve her for another half an hour and Malakier was down in weaponry running her daily diagnostics. A pervasive knot of worry tightened in her stomach as Kathryn thought about her. The young woman had been agitated as they approached an M Class system nearly a month before, becoming nearly hysterical with fear and insisting that they not go anywhere near it. There had not been much to recommend the planet, which their long-range sensors showed high electrical activity in the atmosphere, except for the wealth of the ore deposits there.

 

However, since Mala had been so adamant, they had given it a wide berth, going almost fifty parsecs off their optimum course to avoid it. It was only then that Kathryn had managed to get her calm enough to rest, on one of the bridge anti-grav beds and only after she had exacted a promise from Kathryn and Chakotay that they wouldn't go back. Even now, Mala was still having nightmares, but she couldn't articulate them, only that it was a place of evil and that they would die if they went there. Kathryn and Chakotay had spent long hours discussing what this could mean; if possibly those ill-defined mental abilities she possessed were strengthening. The medical scans during the episode had been inconclusive, given her strange neural chemistry in the first place and her overwhelming fear and panic.

 

Kathryn wished they were out of the Nekrit Expanse, but by their estimation that would take almost another three months before they left it behind. They had passed out of the range of the maps they had bought before entering the Expanse. But they had gained a respite from the friendly Ukiar, who had provided them with another sixty light years of maps in exchange for helping them fix their orbital collectors, which were vital to cleaning their atmosphere of residual pollutants of generations before. It had not been a very pretty world, but the inhabitants had been worth the two-week delay. They had planned to send Malakier on another scouting mission, but with her agitation had decided to wait at least a month or two until she regained her equilibrium.

 

However, Kathryn couldn't shake the feelings this part of space brought out in her—perhaps it was just the constant murkiness and the fact that sensors didn't penetrate it as well as in other regions of space. She felt like someone groping about in dim light trying to find her way around. It certainly was a strange place—no wonder few ships from Mala and Neelix's neck of the woods ventured far into it. A few weeks before, they had detected gallicite on a long deserted world, but as they moved closer to investigate, the readings had disappeared. The cities lay in ruin and after thorough scans there hadn't been anything there to account for the readings. It was only two days after they had broken orbit that she realised suddenly that there was no gallicite readings in the crust what so ever—not even trace amounts normally found on a planet of that compositional type. Chakotay had laughed rather nervously and said to put it down as another of the weird and wonderful things about the Nekrit Expanse—like nebulas that remained stable when they should have blown up aeons ago.

 

She looked down at her console as it beeped and adjusted her course to skirt a debris field from a rather large ship. As she slowed and activated the scanners, her heart tightened as it always did—tightened in fear that it might be her ship. However, it wasn't and she smiled reflexively in relief— _Voyager_ was still in one piece somewhere up ahead. As the data came in the smile froze on her face and she swallowed the terror that rose from deep within her.

 

"Computer, red alert. Chakotay, Malakier get to the bridge now!" she ordered harshly, bringing them to full stop and headed to the science station to begin an omni-directional sensor sweep with the long-range sensors. A few minutes later, Mala ran onto the bridge and slid into the helm without a word, followed closely by Chakotay, still fastening his camouflage suit as he moved directly to tactical.

 

"What is it Kathryn?" Mala asked, looking up at the scraps of metal floating past on the viewscreen.

 

"Oh gods," Chakotay breathed meeting Kathryn's eyes in horror, "they've reached this far—the Enterprise met them in an area tens of thousands of light years from here, not even close to this route."

 

"I know," Kathryn replied gravely. "But that was just one ship travelling alone, we don't know how vast their territory is or how far into the delta and beta quadrants they've penetrated. With their transwarp technology, they can go almost anywhere."

 

"What happened to the ship?" Chakotay asked. "Can you tell what destroyed it?"

 

"From what the scans say, it apparently just blew up," she answered with a shudder. "And within the last year—maybe as recent as a few months ago—"

 

"Kathryn, Borg ships don't just blow up!" he countered sceptically.

 

"Well, from all the evidence, this one did," she returned evenly.

 

"What is going on?" Malakier demanded and Kathryn looked at her in surprise as she registered the young woman's presence. "What is this? Why are you both so agitated?"

 

"We'll explain in a moment Mala," Kathryn replied. "First we need to cloak while the scan is completed," she said turning back to the data from the debris field. After a few minutes she met their eyes again and went to sit in the centre seat as Mala and Chakotay turned to face her. She met his eyes and gave a wry half-smile, "Well where do we begin, Chakotay?"

 

"We can start with Q and the Enterprise and work up to Wolf 359," he replied softly. She nodded at him as he began to brief Malakier on the Borg. "Mala, this debris field is of a ship from a—well group of people known to us as the Borg, one of the most fearsome enemies known to the Federation, in fact the entire alpha quadrant."

 

"One of your enemies is out here?" she asked in puzzlement. "Could it have been brought here like you, by the Caretaker?"

 

"No," Kathryn replied. "In fact we have reason to believe that the Borg originated somewhere in the delta quadrant. But let's start at the beginning. Ten years ago, another Federation ship was brought to the delta quadrant by another powerful, almost omniscient being known as Q. Apparently, this being had taken an interest in humans and in one human in particular, Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Flagship Enterprise. Try to imagine a being that can do anything he liked and had a warped sense of humour to boot. He enjoyed putting Captain Picard and his crew through various tests as he viewed them. _Voyager_ has even had a run in with him and his kind, but that's another story," she said hastily as Mala seemed about to interrupt.

 

"Q thought humans were arrogant and did not belong in space, so on one of his tests of Captain Picard, he brought the Enterprise to a sector of the delta quadrant directly into the path of a Borg ship, which nearly carved up the Enterprise into small pieces. None of the Enterprise's weapons had any effect on it and at the time, she was one of the most advanced ships in our fleet. The Borg are cybernetic beings all linked into a vast hive-consciousness and travel in large, cube-shaped ships. Each drone in the hive is not an individual, but part of a collective and connected to each other over vast distances. Each ship possesses thousands of drones and it doesn't matter if one dies, they just keep coming and adapting almost immediately to whatever weapon was used to destroy the previous drone or ship. The Borg don't learn, they assimilate information and assimilate entire species into their collective turning them into more Borg drones—it is their ideal of perfection, a fusion of organic and machine."

 

Chakotay continued solemnly, "Their motto is "resistance is futile" and it certainly seemed that way when the Enterprise first encountered them. The most powerful weapons the Federation had were useless after two or three shots, as they carved up and assimilated parts of the ship. Q did it I suppose, as a sort of perverse lesson in humility so that Captain Picard would have to ask for his help, but what we learned when he brought the Enterprise back was that we had absolutely no defence against them and they knew where we were."

 

Kathryn met Mala's eyes sadly, "About a year later, the Borg attacked the Federation—assimilated Captain Picard to speak for them, to make our assimilation easier and whatever he knew about Federation defences, they knew. They had technology that could bring them across vast distances into our space—we had been working on new weapons, upgrading frantically, but we were in no way ready. Had the Q not brought the Enterprise into the delta quadrant, the Federation would not have expanded into it for at least another fifty - hundred years. When they came, they headed straight for the heart of the Federation—straight to Earth, destroying everything in their path. Our fleet came out to meet them in a system known as Wolf 359, but were no match, over ten thousand lives lost, thirty-nine ships destroyed, a hundred more almost in complete ruin—everywhere devastation—"

 

"How did you survive?" Malakier asked looking from one to the other in shock.

 

"We almost didn't," Chakotay replied. "However, the Enterprise managed to catch up to the cube and get Picard back. Working to remove him from the collective, they found a way to use him to shut the cube down because he was linked into the hive mind. Captain Picard managed to hang on to enough of his identity to get a message to them, to tell them to put the Borg to sleep—send them all back to their regeneration cubicles, which each drone needed to do after being active for a few days. The wreckage of that cube gave us insight into the Borg and ideas on weapons against them, but we are still nowhere near sophisticated enough, as they continue to assimilate new worlds and new technology.

 

"I can't even think of what would happen if they made an all out assault into our space," Chakotay said shuddering expressively. "We have had some other incidents with them, even succeeded in making one of their drones an individual. But the Borg only cut that ship out of their collective when they descended into chaos, leaving the drones to fend for on their own. And just because a drone is an individual—starts having emotions, doesn't necessarily make it less vicious. I don't know why this ship blew up, but its presence may mean that we are entering Borg territory. The original contact was in another sector of the delta quadrant altogether, nearly forty thousand light years from our position and in no way close to our projected path, but that was a single cube with no evidence of any others."

 

"So what do we do now?" she asked softly. Kathryn didn't know what to tell her and met Chakotay's eyes; they knew that even with _Voyager_ , they were no match for even one cube. "Could this be a case like the one the Enterprise encountered; a single cube out here alone, possibly scouting for new worlds and technology."

 

"I don't know, Mala," Kathryn answered. "That is a distinct possibility. As for what to do, I don't know that there is much we can do but forge ahead—unless we go back or simply stop."

 

"There is no going back," the girl whispered looking into her eyes. "And to stop solves nothing. This ship was here and others may come. We will not know what lies ahead until we move forward—you taught me that."

 

Chakotay smiled at Kathryn as she nodded in agreement. "There isn't much to be learned about this debris field—everything was completely destroyed and I don't find any evidence of other ships being involved. I think we should move on as quickly as possible."

 

"I think I should begin my scouting missions in the Craft again," Malakier said. "I am sure I can return with at least two hundred and fifty light years worth of data this time, maybe even remain in normal space and scan for a while—"

 

"No!" Kathryn said fiercely. "You don't understand Mala, what they're like. It's too dangerous—if they detect you, they will destroy you."

 

"But you said it yourself Kathryn," Malakier persisted. "My Craft is virtually undetectable, and it reads simply like a space-dwelling creature in normal space."

 

"Undetectable to us," Chakotay said softly. "The Borg are far more advanced Mala, and you're forgetting something important—our technology mounted on the Craft. Without it we're blind and with it, you might as well be wearing a sign that says, "shoot here", because I'm fairly certain that all the Borg know the Federation signature."

 

Malakier studied them intently as she spoke, "I know I have not experienced what you did with the Borg. I cannot imagine the type of devastation you describe, but we need this data, you know that. We need every advantage and my Craft is one such advantage. Once we go—wherever it is we go, we are not detectable in normal space, and perhaps exiting into normal space would be too much of a risk, but we need to know what is out there. Is there no way you can change the signatures of your instruments so that they do not register as Federation signatures?"

 

Kathryn looked at her with mixed feelings, she understood what Malakier was saying, but everything was inside her screaming to protect her from those cold, soulless automatons. "We still have the cartographic rig Byrilar used," she said softly, licking her dry lips. "The resolution wouldn't be as good, but it's still working."

 

"We also have Talaxian sensors we can probably do something with," Chakotay began. "But Mala, the Borg use a type of transwarp technology. It may be that they could detect your Craft—"

 

"Not necessarily," Kathryn said speculatively. "That was one of the things I was able to rule out when we started studying it—the Craft doesn't produce any of the hallmarks of transwarp travel detected by the Enterprise. The Borg create defined conduits through space, but the Craft doesn't do that—it can move where ever and in whatever direction. It's like transwarp conduits are underwater tunnels from one place to another, while the Craft propels itself through the water at a high speed. Even the nature of the spatial distortions is entirely different than those produced by a transwarp conduit—which is why I'm having so much trouble with the neutrino surges. If she doesn't enter normal space, she shouldn't be detectable. I only wish I knew more about what was going on when it travelled."

 

"So we'll try this," Chakotay said regarding each of them gravely. "We keep moving ahead and Mala will continue reconnaissance." Both women nodded silently. "One thing though Mala, we keep the trips to about one hundred light years—I know you can do more, but two hundred light years round trip would mean that you would spend only about ninety minutes out there alone. Each time you've used the Craft, your transit time over the same distance decreases, which is a distinct advantage for us as we would get the data in the shortest time possible and you would spend less time in potential danger."

 

"That sounds like the best plan," Malakier replied. "How long will it take to exchange the instruments?"

 

Kathryn looked up startled as she realised Mala was talking to her—in her mind a nightmare scenario ran over and over.

 

"Kathryn?" the young woman said in concern. "What is wrong?"

 

She took a deep breath and tried to banish the image as she looked around the small bridge. "I was thinking of _Voyager_. The moment I saw what that debris field was, I could see them in my mind, surrounded by the Borg, with nowhere to run and no one to help them. The only way I can describe assimilation is that it is a living death—we were briefed on Captain Picard's experience and he said it was more than being trapped in an unresponsive body. He was trapped in his own mind, unable to resist the collective and with passing time, losing more and more of the person who was Jean-Luc Picard."

 

"Try not to worry about that right now Kathryn, Tuvok will take care of them," Chakotay said trying for a note of comfort that didn't quite ring true. "I don't know what's ahead, but you can count on our logical Vulcan friend to take care of the crew—and the Borg are nothing if not logical."

 

"But sometimes logic's not the answer," she said quietly.

 

"And sometimes it is," he replied meeting her eyes. "You can't worry about that right now. Until we know differently, we assume they're still out there and that they're alive and safe on board _Voyager_. Tuvok took almost year and went around the Dark Ones' territory; you have to believe he knows what he's doing and that he'll keep them safe."

 

****

 

"There's not much here," Chakotay said as they approached the system. "Those scattered clusters of dwellings barely constitute a small town. However, there are a few small ships in orbit as well as on the surface."

 

"They are hailing us, audio only," Malakier reported as Kathryn entered the bridge.

 

"Let's hear it," she replied, slipping into the centre seat.

 

"Unidentified ship," a deep male voice called. "You are entering the domain of the Mikhal Travellers. State your purpose."

 

"We have been told by a convoy of Sot-Pocar Traders that the Mikhal Travellers have explored this sector extensively and may have maps to sell," Kathryn replied. "We request permission to enter orbit around your outpost with the intention of trading."

 

The viewscreen flickered to life with the image of a male humanoid that was not too far from the human norm as far as Chakotay could tell. "I am Nekahn, this is my lodge—" he began and broke off wide-eyed. "Another group of humans?" he gasped in surprise.

 

Chakotay glanced back into Kathryn's surprised and hopeful eyes. "Yes we're human," she replied hoarsely. "Have there been other humans here recently sir?"

 

"Yes," the alien replied suspiciously. "They were also looking for maps of the sector."

 

"Was the ship called _Voyager_ , commanded by Captain Tuvok?" Kathryn continued.

 

"Yes," Nekahn replied. "Who might you be and what do you know about _Voyager_?"

 

Kathryn introduced them formally. "I'm Kathryn Janeway, sir; this is Chakotay and our friend Malakier. Mr. Chakotay and I started out on Voyager, but because of an unforeseen accident, they were forced to leave us behind. We have been trying to catch up with them. Can you please tell us when they were here and do you have any idea of where they went?"

 

"Ah, their former Captain and First Officer according to Mr. Neelix's stories," he replied a little more relaxed.

 

"Yes," Kathryn replied and Chakotay could hear the desperation straining at her voice. Gods it felt good to hear someone else utter Neelix's name with recognition.

 

Nekahn seemed to make up his mind as he regarded them. "Very well, Kathryn Janeway, you have permission to enter orbit and transport down to my lodge at your convenience. Captain Tuvok and _Voyager_ were here trading maps and information—if yours are of the quality of his, I would consider trading with you. The details can be worked out when we meet. _Voyager_ left this outpost approximately eight moon-phases ago; I can fill you in on the details when we meet. I am sending you the co-ordinates of my lodge now and I look forward to making your further acquaintance."

 

"As do we Mr. Nekahn, thank you," Kathryn returned as the view of the planet replaced Nekahn's image. Chakotay saw her eyes brim with tears as before returning his attention to the helm.

 

"From the orbit of their moon, a moon-phase is approximately twenty-six of your standard days. They were here about seven months ago," Malakier reported quietly.

 

"That means that we've made up another five months on them—we are within range of catching up to them, Kathryn," Chakotay said in a jubilant tone. "We are within reach. They have had to make a lot more supply stops than we have and do a lot of foraging. And from what we've seen of the dearth of M Class planets so far, they've probably had to search farther a field."

 

"I know," she replied, coming to stand between them just behind their stations. "This tight constriction around my heart that's been there since we found the remains of that Borg ship just loosened when he asked if we were another group of humans. I can hardly wait to ask him about them." Chakotay gave the hand on his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he felt his own emotions welling up inside him.

 

"We should be cautious however," Malakier reminded them. "He may want our maps in trade for the information about _Voyager_ , but we still need maps of the territories ahead."

 

"Understood," Chakotay replied grinning at her. "The Sot-Pocar said that they were a restless people, that they also valued stories of heroism and daring almost as much as they did information and excellent cartography. I think that the three of us can come up with enough to satisfy them—especially you Mala. Your travels with Byrilar mirror their culture a great deal, the two of you pulling off daring missions in a small, fast ship, always needing to stay one step ahead of whatever planetary authority you've made enemies of. I think that if you dwell on the more exciting aspects of your travels and maybe tone down the blood and guts, we'll do well. We don't want to make them nervous or afraid of us, just give them some good stories along with as accurate information and maps we have available."

 

Malakier laughed as they made their approach to the planet, "Alright Chakotay, I will tone it down. Perhaps I will focus more on my espionage and smuggling activities."

 

"I think you have the idea," he laughed. "We should work out a schedule for rotating watch. Kathryn, I think you and Mala should go down first and make contact. We'll keep an open comm channel so I can hear the news the same time as you. Now we travelled the same route as Tuvok, so our maps will be similar, but of better resolution. Mala also had more extensive maps of her area than Neelix, as well as older maps from beyond Ocampa and the other side of the Zenprata Empire. We also have more recent information on the territorial situations than _Voyager_ had," he finished excitedly. "Gods, I wonder what Torres has been up to!"

 

****

 

"Welcome to my lodge, Kathryn Janeway," Nekahn said graciously.

 

Kathryn smiled at him, trying to force the eagerness from her expression and knowing she was failing. "Thank you again Mr. Nekahn," she replied shaking his hand. "May I introduce Malakier," she continued as Mala briefly clasped his hand. "I'm sorry Mr. Chakotay couldn't come down this time, but someone has to stay with the ship. He'll be listening to your stories with great anticipation."

 

"Understood," he replied as he ushered them over to a table in the middle of the room. Curious on-lookers at other tables waited openly and expectantly for them to be seated. "May I get you something to eat or drink, I still have a selection that was deemed suitable by your physician," he continued in his role as host.

 

"Thank you," Kathryn returned. "Perhaps something to drink, but I'm afraid that Malakier will have to scan the food and beverages for her own consumption, she was not one of my original crew from the alpha quadrant and _Voyager's_ doctor has had no experience with one of her species."

 

"Of course," he agreed smiling as he beckoned a young man over with a tray of beverages. "I have taken the liberty of choosing Kureha, a drink that was popular with many of your crew."

 

"Thank you," Kathryn said as Mala scanned them with her tricorder and nodded as Kathryn took a sip. "It's very good. I'm unsure how you would like this trade to proceed. We've brought some maps for you to inspect, but we have also been told that you value stories as well."

 

He considered them seriously for a moment before answering, "We value accuracy in the maps, reliability in the information about the species you have encountered, and excitement in the stories you tell." Kathryn smiled at that and met Malakier's sparkling eyes. "Perhaps you would like to start with a map and as you are anxious to hear of your people, I will relate what I remember of them. Then maybe you can tell a story relating to the map or any other you have and we can continue to exchange information back and forth for a while. The console at this table is compatible with your the configuration of your instruments," he said turning it on. Kathryn could read the expectant look in his face and those of his other customers as she nodded to Mala who inserted the chip.

 

"Would you rather a map and story from the first ten light years of the Nekrit Expanse or perhaps one from around the Empire in which I was raised," she asked consulting her padd.

 

He smiled again, "I think everyone would like to close the evening with an exciting story from some place more exotic than the Expanse, so why not a map of your Empire, Malakier."

 

Malakier laughed as she brought up the display. "Not my Empire, Nekahn, but the Empire of the great Zenprata. You see—I do not know who I am and I have never seen another of my species. My first memory is the hot sun in the wastelands where I was found and enslaved by a Trabe. When I was recognised as a sentient person, I escaped, becoming for twenty years, a pirate, spy, smuggler, mercenary and explorer. In my quest for my people, I have walked on hundreds of worlds and seen a thousand stars; I have even watched a star go nova—are you interested?"

 

"Very," Nekahn replied, caught up in her tale. A moment later he caught himself as Kathryn chuckled and a few of his fellows laughed at him.

 

"I think, Nekahn," one of them called good-naturedly, "we will have an excellent story tonight; nothing like the tired things you like to tell."

 

"You may be right," he answered studying the map. "But at least I have stories to tell, Mefir."

 

"True," his heckler answered as the others laughed at him.

 

"All right Kathryn, Malakier," he began. "It is agreed. The map itself seems very detailed and it says here that you have included species dossiers on many of the worlds. I look forward to your story. _Voyager_ came here eight moon-phases ago seeking as you did, maps and information about the region of space ahead. We Mikhal Travellers are explorers, nomadic by nature. We simply pick up and leave when the mood strikes us, going in whatever direction—sometimes by merely closing our eyes, spinning a few times and pointing. We keep lodges like this as meeting places where we can exchange information and maps with other explorers and travellers. Your Captain Tuvok was a serious, dour person with a few exciting stories to tell himself, but duties on the ship prevented him from spending much time on the surface. However, Mr. Paris, Mr. Neelix and Mr. Chell more than made up for it—"

 

"I'll bet they did," Kathryn murmured laughing.

 

"Your young ladies also caught a few eyes, especially one named Kes, who caught the eye of a rogue named Zahir and ended up leaving with him on his ship," he continued smiling.

 

"She did?" Kathryn was shocked. "Then she was no longer involved with Mr. Neelix?"

 

"Neelix!" he exclaimed in surprise. "I had no idea she was involved with Neelix, but his actions make sense now if he was jealous. Both he and the Doctor seemed quite protective of her. What shocked me was her age; she's only four years old! What a species, to only live for nine years. Anyway, I do not think it was meant to be a permanent thing—they were supposed to rendezvous with _Voyager_ after exploring the Sylleran Rift, which is a favourite destination of Zahir's. Our ships travel at high warp, so it should have had no trouble catching up and they left a few days ahead of _Voyager_. In any case, it seemed a good trade at the time as one of our younger pair of explorers were bewitched enough by two of your lovely cartographers, sisters I believe and followed them onto your ship. They signed on as guides to Mr. Tuvok as far as Hazbraal, a world a few light years on the far side of the Nezu colonies."

 

"The Delaneys," Kathryn said chuckling delightedly as she met Mala's smile.

 

"Your Lieutenant Torres was a different story however," he said with an amused grin. "I couldn't tell if she was naturally so aggressive or because she was so often sick."

 

Kathryn met his eyes in concern and she could imagine Chakotay's reaction to the news. "Sick? B'Elanna is one of the healthiest people I know. Do you know what caused it?"

 

"Your Doctor assured us it was nothing to worry about," Nekahn replied quickly. "Perhaps I shouldn't have said sick; I didn't mean to alarm you. She was allergic to the cellulose in the plants on this world because she was an alien hybrid. She would sometimes forget, have a little fruit and get sick—which apparently put her in an extremely bad mood. Even so, Mr. Paris seemed to incur her wrath an inordinate number of times."

 

Kathryn laughed again at his last statement, "Paris and Torres, now there's an explosive combination at any time. What about Kim, Neelix and the rest—you mentioned the Doctor, did you visit the ship?"

 

"No," he replied. "He transported to the planet with others of your crew."

 

"He did what?" Kathryn asked in outrage. "Are we talking about the ship's holographic physician—that Doctor?"

 

"Yes," Nekahn responded, puzzled at her reaction.

 

"Do you know how he managed that?" Kathryn asked in confusion. "When we left the ship, he was confined to sickbay—to places with holographic emitters. How did he get down to the planet?"

 

Nekahn grinned at her, "I guess he must have acquired his mobile emitter after they lost you. We asked about it and he clearly wanted to share it as one of his stories, but he was bound by secrecy about its origin because as he said, it had consequences for the past, present and future—for the entire nature of time itself," he said with a chuckle. "I thought he was being overly dramatic. He did however tell us about saving Neelix with a pair of holographic lungs after another species stole his right out of his chest. Those stories we could not quite believe."

 

"Believe it," Malakier assured him. "The Vidiians are quite real and more deadly than you can imagine. They have been stealing other people's body parts for a long time, and they do not care that you still might be using them at the moment. You would be hard-pressed to find one individual that hasn't had at least one transplant."

 

"There is not much more to tell," Nekahn concluded. "Neelix had some good stories about being a salvager and trader, as well as stories about you and Commander Chakotay. Kim, I remember, told us about crossing over from his universe into ours when your ship had doubled and was attacked by those body snatchers. I know that one child was born while they were here because there was a celebration and Lieutenant Paris had to pay quite a few people who made the right gamble about weight, size and gender. I think that brought the number of children to three or four, but I did not have an opportunity see any of them.

 

"They did warn us about a species of dangerous cybernetic beings on a planet a hundred light years in the direction from which you came—their ship had been damaged and they'd transported to that world, but Captain Tuvok still felt they were a threat. He also warned us that there might be more of these beings in the sectors ahead, but he was unable to say where—only that once captured by them, you also became a cybernetic organism and lost your entire identity."

 

He met Kathryn's eyes gravely. "For many years there have been reports about disappearances of those who travel in the direction you're headed. This is one of our furthest out-posts as the Mikhal originated in a different sector and began dispersal on an entirely different vector, so our information is rather limited in that direction, but we would be glad to share what we gave _Voyager_. It is also very curious that little information filters back from that direction beyond Hazbraal, but there are many secrets in this universe to occupy our Travellers and I am sure we will get there with time."

 

"Thank you," Kathryn said gratefully after a moment. Even the spectre of the Borg couldn't stop her heart from soaring when she heard that other children had been born on _Voyager_. She smiled at Malakier as she continued. "It was more wonderful than you can possibly know to hear about them again. Now I believe you were waiting for a story of excitement and daring—well hang on to your seats gentlemen, because Malakier lives in the fast lane."

 

****

 


	9. Hell's Belles

Chakotay checked the long-range sensors again, but found nothing. The small Davis-Eikbe Class Two nebula thirty parsecs away might have caught Kathryn's interest, if she hadn't been so caught up with the problem of Malakier's Craft since they'd left the Mikhal Travellers three weeks before. They had stopped and cloaked while Mala made a reconnaissance run and by Kathryn's calculations, she would be back within the half-hour. He chuckled softly. Malakier certainly had turned out to be the "belle of the ball" so to speak among the Travellers, who had few female members.

 

Her lively, entertaining stories had delighted and surprised even him and Kathryn. She had a flair for making the ones she'd told before fresh and she also had vast stores of others. They had not learned anything more about _Voyager_ after the second day, other than her intended route, but in all it had been a good way to spend five relaxing days and the Mikhal maps were excellent as far as they went—which wasn't very far.

 

Nekahn had exaggerated his prowess a bit, but even that had been amusing as the others ribbed him about it, then tried to top his tall tales. One of the other Travellers had laughed and told him that what Nekahn lacked in story telling, he made up for with good maps and information. The maps they provided would give his lodge great prestige among the Travellers even if they didn't get to that part of space for many years. What had worried Chakotay was Malakier's attachment to one of the Travellers, but that had lasted only three or four days and from all indications hadn't gone very far to his relief.

 

The sensors' warning broke into his reverie and he checked his board quickly—it wasn't Malakier. "Chakotay to Janeway . . . we have company, Kathryn . . . ships at extreme sensor range and closing fast. They are exchanging fire."

 

"Understood," she answered. "What's their heading? Can you make out any details yet?"

 

"They're on a convergent vector with us," he replied. "The lead ship is small and fast—pulling about warp 9.5. I think it's a Traveller. Following are two larger alien craft, and there are three more ships just entering sensor range now, but they're a different configuration—"

 

"Mala is due any time now," Kathryn said pensively. "How long until they get here?"

 

Chakotay didn't lift his eyes from his display as he answered, "About fifteen minutes—the Traveller has really poured on the juice, he's gone to warp 9.75. I think he's sustained damage . . . I'm getting some strange readings from his shield grid. The other two groups of ships are now fighting each other and have slowed to warp 9. Hold on, one ship in the group of three has broken off! He's going after the Traveller. I wonder what the hell the Mikhal have done . . . wait, I'm getting a distress call."

 

". . . Rogue Comet. We are under attack," came a very desperate, very young voice. "I repeat we are under attack! Render aid if possible, but to all Mikhal Travellers, avoid the planet Taresia at all costs! Avoid Taresia! It is a trap! This is the Mikhal Traveller ship Rogue Comet. We are under attack . . ."

 

Chakotay cut off the distress signal. "What do you want to do Kathryn?" he asked as he checked the slave of weapons control to the helm.

 

"I'm not sure what we can do," she said thoughtfully. "We need to be here for Mala. Chakotay, it looks like the Traveller's shields have come down—can you confirm?"

 

"Yes, I think they've thrown everything into the warp drive—they've gone to warp 9.91!" he shouted. "If we don't get them out of there the ship is going to come apart around them . . . they'll be dead long before the core breach. The alien is still pursuing."

 

"We can't risk decloaking a moment before it's necessary to pick up Malakier," she returned. "I'm slaving the transporter to engineering. We can try to beam them out, but at the speed they are going—"

 

"I'll plot a parallel course," Chakotay called back as the ship plunged ahead. "If we time it correctly, there'll be a brief window when we're along side them . . . I'm reading three humanoids. They're closing fast—I won't be able to sustain warp 9.4 long. You'll have about 27 seconds before the ship moves out of range."

 

"Understood," Kathryn replied. "Scanners to maximum—setting annular confinement beam to widest possible configuration."

 

Chakotay could hear the tension in her voice as he checked his velocity, while trying to assess tactical manoeuvres if they needed them. He would have to handle weapons as well—time to put all those simulations to good use, he thought wryly.

 

"Coming into range now," Kathryn continued. "Attempting to achieve transporter lock—"

 

Chakotay paid little attention to her voice as he watched the indicator of the containment field around the warp core and the structural integrity indicator; both were beginning to redline. The ship could only take a few seconds more of this—they wouldn't have to worry about remaining cloaked with a core breach.

 

"Kathryn, have you got them?" he called urgently. "I have to break off or we'll be in trouble!" His fingers were busy at the control as the ship diverged from its vector sharply and he reduced their velocity and fled in the direction of the nebula as the Mikhal ship blew up. He watched the core containment field stabilise as the warp indicator dropped to warp 6.1 and breathed a sigh of relief as the ship no longer threatened to come apart around him. "Kathryn?" He cursed the fact that during most emergencies, they were often apart.

 

"Still here, Chakotay," she quipped with amusement. "I have all three youths, but we seem to have a problem—one of them has pulled a weapon on me. I didn't have time to deactivate it during transport. I started to lose the transporter lock and had to shore up the confinement beam, so I couldn't leave them in the pattern buffer."

 

"Look who ever you are," Chakotay shouted angrily. "We just saved your asses from gods only know whom you've pissed off so badly at grave risk to our own lives. This is not the type of gratitude we expected! If we have to disarm you—if you hurt her—you _will_ regret it. I now have a transporter lock on you and I'll beam all of you into space in a heartbeat. Now turn over that weapon to Kathryn before you make me regret we saved you."

 

"Thank you kindly, sir," he heard Kathryn's infuriatingly amused voice say. She was treating these people like naughty schoolboys. "I have the weapon Chakotay, but one of them is hurt—"

 

"Can't talk now Kathryn, we have a problem!" he shouted. "Check the cloak—is it still functioning properly?"

 

"Yes, it's fine!" she returned in confusion. "What's wrong?"

 

"The first set of aliens, they're tracking us somehow Kathryn—" he replied as the ship was rocked by weapon's fire.

 

"How? We're not bleeding any emissions—" she was interrupted by another volley of weapon's fire. "All the Tarok lines are fine!"

 

"The others seem to have accepted the explosion of the Mikhal ship, but these two—"

 

"It is my brother!" came the voice from the distress call. "He is changing somehow and the Taresians can detect his life-form!"

 

"Well what ever it is, it's not enough to get a weapon's lock," Chakotay continued. "We're not damaged yet, but if they keep this up, they're going to get lucky. Spatial distortion forming at the rendezvous site—Mala has returned!"

 

"We have to go back for her!" Kathryn called frantically. "I'll decloak while you handle the weapon's fire—"

 

The ship lurched violently under him as he prepared to return fire. "Direct hit—aft port shields down to 64 percent. Returning fire . . . phasers and blasters." He set the blasters to automatically target the two Taresian ships the moment the _Phoenix_ decloaked—they could fire when cloaked, but risked damaging both cloak and shields. Setting his course, he plunged past the two larger ships as the blasters went into rapid fire and brought to bear full phaser fire. After a moment of disorientation the Taresian ships began to make their shots count as _Phoenix_ lurched and he tried continuing evasive manoeuvres, depending on their small size and manoeuvrability to give him the edge.

 

"Alien ship," a pleasant female voice called. "You have one of our citizens on board. This matter is of no concern to you. Please relinquish our citizen."

 

"She is lying," returned the voice from engineering. "He is my brother. He is Mikhal and most definitely not Taresian!"

 

Chakotay watched shield power in various sectors drop as they were rocked again, and they lost one starboard blaster array. He returned with torpedo fire, trying to keep on top of the fire from both ships. Suddenly one of the Taresian ships exploded and he looked at his display in shock as the other alien ship was rocked by what appeared to be high-energy plasma bolts from ten different directions almost simultaneously. It broke pursuit and fled back in the direction from which it had come.

 

"What the hell just happened, Kathryn?" Chakotay called, frantically scanning for other ships.

 

"It's Malakier, Chakotay," replied Kathryn in an awed voice.

 

"What?" he shouted flabbergasted.

 

"It's her, Chakotay," she insisted softly, her voice choked with emotion. "Bring us to an all stop and lower shields."

 

****

 

Kathryn heard the young men gasp as the Craft appeared in the engineering bay. Throughout the battle, she'd had little time for them and had even less now as she scanned it thoroughly. She had Mala to take care of while Chakotay found them a safe place to catch their breaths and repair whatever damage had been done. She knelt by the Craft, holding Malakier's robe as the seams appeared and it opened, lifting and separating to reveal the young woman inside. She smiled involuntarily at another collective gasp behind her as Malakier opened her eyes and gave her that same child-like angelic smile as Kathryn wrapped her in the robe. She turned to the three young men.

 

"Help me to get her on the anti-grav bed," she requested needlessly as the two able bodied ones abruptly abandoned their comrade. The tall, dark haired one, who was obviously the brother of the injured boy, lifted Malakier carefully out of the craft and laid her on the bed as his friend held it steady. Kathryn checked her vital signs and adjusted the coverlet—she fell asleep, just exhausted with a slight electrolyte imbalance. "Janeway to Chakotay, she's fine—they're both safe," she called in relief.

 

"Thanks, Kathryn," he replied with equal relief. "I'm taking us into the nebula, but I won't engage the cloak. We have minor structural damage and the relays of starboard blaster number two are all shot. We should be safe in about an hour and a half. How are our guests?"

 

Kathryn couldn't help smirking as the young men continued to stare at Malakier in fascination. "They're just fine—in most ways," she quipped. "I'm going to send one of them up for the other anti-grav bed for their injured comrade."

 

"All right," he agreed. "I'll see you in a little while . . . kiss Mala for me."

 

"I will," she replied to his familiar request. He was often on the bridge when Malakier returned from her scouting missions. "Janeway out."

 

She kissed Mala on the forehead, then turned to the young men and gave an inward groan—she hoped Mala could withstand the amount of attention she was about to receive when she was conscious again.

 

Kathryn cleared her throat to get their attention. "I'm sorry, but I don't know your names."

 

"Arndriz," said the tall, black haired one with a courteous bow.

 

"Ransarv," replied his injured brother who sat on the floor.

 

"I am Zejahn," the smaller, older-looking redhead replied, bowing also. "I was the engineer and they shared pilot and navigator duties."

 

Kathryn nodded politely to them as she introduced herself. "I'm Kathryn Janeway. The man on our bridge is Chakotay, and this is Malakier," she said indicating to the young woman. "We left Nekahn's lodge on the Mikhal outpost where we had been trading, three weeks ago . . . nearly one moon-phase and were attempting some experiments when we detected your ship in trouble."

 

Their faces showed their relief plainly as she continued. "Arndriz, I want you to take that lift there up to the bridge," she said pointing in the direction he should go. "Chakotay will be there. I need you to get the other anti-grav bed there and bring it for your brother—it's against the wall, Chakotay will show you." As the young man left reluctantly, she turned to the others. "Zejahn, hand me the instrument behind you so that I can finish the scan on Ransarv," she directed.

 

As she took stock of the young man's broken leg and other injuries, he asked, "Who is she? What is she Kathryn Janeway?"

 

Kathryn chuckled softly; there was no need for her to ask what he meant. "She is Malakier and she is our friend," she replied cryptically. "A traveller of sorts—like you. Now hold still while I complete the scan."

 

****

 

Kathryn gave Chakotay one of her more infuriatingly smug looks as they approached the laughter and voices coming from the mess hall, for which he playfully swatted her rear. Malakier was once again the belle and playing it for all it was worth.

 

 _Well good for her_ , he thought, but he hoped she wouldn't get hurt along the way. He had needed Kathryn's help with a potential overload in one of the structural integrity field generators, so she had left Malakier sleeping in the mess hall in the young men's care and wearing a bio-monitor. It had not been so much of a pressing problem, as it was one that they couldn't afford to postpone given their current situation. The blaster relays had been repaired and the other minor structural damage could wait until the morning. Malakier had cheerfully called them an hour before and informed them that she and the young men would be making supper.

 

"There you are," the young woman laughed as they entered the mess hall. "We were beginning to think you had got lost," she quipped in a devilish tone, using the phrase she often used on R&R days when they rose late and she wanted to rib them about their sex lives.

 

Chakotay attempted to give her an admonishing look, but hugged her instead and kissed her cheek. "Hello Mala," he greeted her as she turned to hug Kathryn. "I see you're going to be Queen Bee for a while again," he teased and this time was on the receiving end of the admonishing look. He grinned at the young men who introduced themselves as they all sat down to the meal. "Well, gentlemen," he said as they began. "You must have quite a story to tell."

 

"Yes," replied the one introduced as Arndriz. "A very strange story indeed," he began as the others murmured their assent. "Three days ago, Ransarv began to change—he kept insisting knew the space we were in and he knew the aliens called the Nasari, the ones who destroyed our ship, before they even introduced themselves. Then those spots appeared on his face and body, we thought he had taken ill and decided to try to at least return to Hazbraal as there are usually one or two of our ships there."

 

Chakotay studied the red marks on Ransarv's face closely. "I hope this condition is not contagious," he remarked.

 

"We do not think so," Zejahn replied. "Neither Arndriz or I show any of the signs."

 

"And I did know the space," Ransarv insisted earnestly. "It felt very familiar, as if I had been there before. It felt like home. I knew instinctively that the Nasari were going to be hostile to us as soon as I saw the ship—there was an overpowering urge in me to run for safety, for home. Except home for me had always been our colony on Drosha Prime and here I was directing Arndriz to head for a strange planet we had never seen before, but felt like home to me."

 

"The Nasari kept firing at us and demanding that we hand over the Taresian on our ship. Then another ship left the planet and confronted the Nasari, drove them off—they seemed like our saviours," Arndriz continued. "Then Ransarv began to act very strangely, he wanted to go to them immediately, he kept saying that he was home now. That is why Zejahn tied him up and why he got hurt. He nearly wrested control of our craft from me and headed towards the planet. I regained control and pulled us well back of the planet and when the ship that had saved us made contact, things really got weird—the entire crew was made up of very beautiful women—"

 

"Only Arndriz would consider beautiful women weird," Zejahn quipped grinning at Kathryn and Malakier as his friend glowered at him.

 

"No, I did not consider that weird," Arndriz retorted. "But even you would have to admit that the story their leader spun for us was completely a tale that escaped a black hole."

 

Zejahn's grin dimmed as he nodded slowly in agreement and the small shudder that passed through his frame didn't escape Chakotay's notice.

 

"The women had the same kind of markings on their faces and necks as Ransarv," Arndriz continued, "and their leader said that they had detected one of their people on board our ship that the Nasari wanted to keep from returning home. They wanted us to land on their world so they could welcome their lost relative and that his friends were also most dearly welcomed. I told them that he was my brother and not one of their people, that there must be some mistake—the Nasari sent us a message saying that if we went to that world we would never leave again. All this while I tried to keep our distance from their planet as they seemed unwilling to fire on us, while Ransarv bellowed like some maniac in the background—"

 

"I was not a _maniac_ ," came the outraged response and Chakotay heard Malakier giggle softly as Kathryn tried to hide her smile behind her napkin. "All right, I suppose I was ranting a bit," Ransarv admitted sheepishly. "But it felt so right, everything she was saying made sense and it felt like Arndriz was trying to keep me from my great destiny. At that time it felt like he had always been trying to keep me from the greatness that lay out there for me. I cannot explain it. I just felt like Taresia was where I belonged and I still do, but not as strongly now."

 

"Could it have been some type of telepathic control?" Kathryn asked curiously.

 

"I do not know," Arndriz replied. "I think it may be some type of genetic compulsion. The leader Lyris, tried to explain that Ransarv was not my brother, but that he was one of their people. She said that he was conceived on their planet, and then his real genetic father took him as an embryo and implanted him into our mother's womb. Then when he grew up, he felt the need to go into space, become an explorer and eventually work his way back to his people, bringing new knowledge and genetic diversity with him."

 

"And that's when you knew she was lying," Kathryn said in comprehension as she rose and went to the couch to fetch the tricorder that had been monitoring Malakier. "Because you're identical twins."

 

"Yes," the young man replied as she began to scan him and his twin. "You see—they had never had a look at him because we tied him up when he started to act strangely, they could only hear him. Multiple births as a result of the division of a single fertilised egg are unusual enough among my people that we are catalogued and receive excellent medical care almost from our conception, because there are sometimes metabolic problems. However, that is more common if there are more than two. Twins are not as rare as other multiples, but someone would have noticed if one of us had alien genetic material and the other did not, even if those genes were dormant or disguised. All our tests from the beginning of our lives showed that we had always been identical genetically. All of a sudden, it was like a great dread passing over me; these beautiful women began to look more and more evil—as if their beautiful faces were only masks. I did not wait to hear any more, I just put the ship into warp 7 and did not look back—"

 

"Scared me to death," Zejahn said shuddering.

 

"Scared you?" Arndriz returned. "My hands were shaking so badly, I was sure I would crash us into a star. I just kept building warp speed and praying that we could outrun them, for at that instant, I knew that blowing ourselves up was preferable to what ever they had in mind for us."

 

"You're right, Arndriz," Kathryn said quietly. "Mala, bring the med-kit and set the microcellular scanner up by the couch," she directed as she studied the results of her scan. "Everything about you two is identical, except for some of what seems like recessive elements on four of your chromosomes, Ransarv. However, it seems as if those elements are directing rewrites of your genome. I need a more detailed scan."

 

As Malakier returned with the kit, Kathryn directed Ransarv to lie on the couch, before consulting with the computer for a few minutes.

 

"Can you reverse the effects?" Arndriz asked anxiously.

 

"I don't know," she replied as Chakotay and Malakier began the scan of Ransarv. "The analysis of just what was done to him may take some time. After we've finished with your brother, I'll need a microcellular scan of you for a comparison."

 

The young man nodded in agreement as Chakotay asked. "Was there any time that you were separated, when this could have been done without any of you knowing?"

 

"I do not know," he replied in confusion. "We have spent much time together and a lot of time apart. I have no idea when this could have been done or how long this alien genetic material might have been sitting dormant in his genome. We have been travelling now for three years—our last medical exam was just before we began our journey and was performed by a physician who had been looking after us since we were children. I am sure he would have noticed if Ransarv had suddenly acquired new genetic material."

 

"If it was a trap," Chakotay continued. "They would want to spring it on you somewhere close to their space so that he would start to recognise it. It may have been time delayed so that the genetic material could have time to stabilise in his genome."

 

"The planet Arndriz," Zejahn said excitedly. "Remember how he had a headache and went to lie down after we scouted that planet. He also said his mouth tasted funny."

 

"You are right," his friend agreed. "But it was only for about two or three hours and he was fine."

 

"What planet?" Kathryn asked looking up from the console. "And when was this?"

 

"Five days before he started acting strangely," Zejahn replied. "We wanted to strike out in a different direction from other Travellers, win some prestige, even set up a new lodge between the three of us—that planet seemed the ideal distance from Nekahn's lodge—"

 

"Now we will have to return home with nothing," Arndriz said disconsolately. "And our fathers will make us become farmers—we lost all our data when the ship blew up."

 

"No we did not," his friend answered with a mischievous smile. He tossed a small, flat, silver box into the air and caught it.

 

"You saved it?" Arndriz shouted in surprise. "How?"

 

"What do you mean how?" Zejahn scoffed. "I did what any experienced Traveller would do when the shooting starts; I downloaded all our important data from the computer and prayed we got out of it."

 

"Well I would have thought of it if I had not been so busy saving our lives," Arndriz returned, attempting to save face. Chakotay couldn't help laughing at them.

 

"And I would have thought of it if I had not been so busy trying to get us captured," his brother quipped as he rose from the couch, at which point they all started laughing.

 

After Arndriz's scan was completed, Kathryn left the room as Malakier served dessert. Chakotay watched her ruefully as she flirted with the young men, laughing at their stories and acting extremely girlish about their daring exploits. He gave another inward chuckle. He knew that she had stories that would give them heart attacks if they knew—come to think of it, they would know when they returned to Nekahn's lodge. He looked up as Kathryn returned with a hypospray.

 

"This is an RNA inhibitor, Ransarv," she said as she injected him. "It's specific to the alien genetic material and should block any further translation of the alien proteins that are essential for the transformation of your genome. I've also included something to help in the degradation of the alien RNA transcripts, but won't affect the ones native to your body. However, this isn't a cure, just a treatment to halt the progression of the transformations. The only cure is to remove that alien genetic material and we don't have the expertise to do that here. I'll continue to monitor you until we get to Hazbraal and provide you with enough of a supply of the medication to last until you can get medical help from your own physicians. I'll also provide you with the procedure for manufacturing more and a complete set of our scans—it appears that they might have used a retrovirus to transmit the genetic material, so it could have been anything you touched. I'm sorry, but it's the best we can do."

 

"Thank you Kathryn," Ransarv replied gratefully. "You have done more than enough."

 

"We'll leave the nebula after we finished the structural repairs tomorrow," Chakotay said. "At warp 7, we should get to Hazbraal in four days. There were a few Traveller ships in orbit there when we passed last week."

 

"You have been very kind," Arndriz said with a respectful bow to Kathryn and Chakotay. "I wish there was something we could do for you."

 

"Believe it or not you already have," Malakier replied. "You warned us about the Taresians and the Nasari, or we might have ended up in their trap and Kathryn would definitely object to them transforming Chakotay for whatever their purpose." The young men laughed heartily at the quip as Kathryn blushed. "Now you can warn your own people and others to be wary of that planet where Ransarv may have picked up the genetic material, as well as other worlds in that area where the Taresians might have set other traps."

 

As the evening wore on, the younger people continued their pleasant conversation and Chakotay told them the story of Odysseus and the Sirens who called men to their deaths in the watery depths of the ocean, while Kathryn spent the time studying Malakier's latest run.

 

"You three really are lucky," Chakotay laughed. "For a minute there, I thought you were going to break the warp 10 barrier—then gods only know what you would have transformed into going through all points in space at once."

 

"Transformed into?" Zejahn asked curiously.

 

"You should ask Kathryn about that story—" Chakotay began.

 

"What did you just say?" Kathryn asked with a strange look on her face.

 

"That you should tell them about the time you and Paris broke warp 10—"

 

"No!" she exclaimed turning back to her console. "Before that, you said we went through all points in space at once," she continued excitedly. "Supra-subspace warp travel! Supra-warp—warp 10."

 

"Yes I know what supra-warp is, Kathryn," Chakotay said, puzzled at her reaction. "What is it, Kathryn?" he asked, ignoring the stares of the others.

 

"Supra-warp travel! My God, that's it! The Craft! I can't believe I didn't see it before! I have it!" she laughed and threw herself into his arms kissing him.

 

"I don't understand," he said as she launched herself happily into Malakier's arms. "You ruled out warp 10 travel for the Craft. If it had been she would have mutated long ago. Does it protect her in some way?" he asked in confusion.

 

"No," she said catching her breath. "The opposite of supra-warp, Chakotay! Not supra-subspace warp travel, infra-subspace fluid dynamics! It doesn't go through all points in space at one time, but one point at a time very quickly—it's not warp based! That's why she could hop around so quickly today, that's why the shots she made seemed to come from ten different ships almost simultaneously—the time delay was extremely small, but there was a delay. The shots were plasma bolts from the fabric of subspace itself—not anything actually generated by the Craft.

 

"It was like throwing rocks at them—she was throwing rocks! That's what I've been studying all evening. It was so new and different from anything she'd done in the past, I thought it would give me a clue. I was just about ready to give up for the night when what you said pulled it all together for me—they're not going through all points in space at one time, but through each point one at a time! The Craft doesn't depend on warp, but I'm just beginning to get an idea of what it does depend on. It's so wild, so simple so . . . so elegant that it would be virtually impossible to think up. It's completely counter-intuitive! Oh my God!" she exclaimed as she returned to her console and gathered up her padds and materials, disappearing a moment later.

 

"Ah, have you any idea of what she just said?" Arndriz asked in confusion.

 

"Not me," Mala replied. Chakotay could tell that she understood that Kathryn had figured out the secret of her Craft's propulsion, but she hadn't a clue what the explanation meant.

 

"I'm not sure either," Chakotay replied. "Kathryn's a scientist—my specialities lie in piloting, weaponry and tactics. I'm not sure I understand what she was trying to say."

 

"She said you breached the warp 10 barrier," Zejahn said in awe. He clearly understood the implications of that—and as an engineer, he should.

 

"Yes," Chakotay replied, deciding to tell some of the truth. "Our former ship _Voyager_ , the one we're so desperate to catch up to, built a prototype shuttle that could travel at warp 10. Again, I don't know the scientific details of how it worked, but the side effects on the occupants of the shuttle were horrendous. You think Ransarv's changes are startling? Going at warp 10 causes people to undergo radical mutations into completely different beings. Our Doctor was almost not able to change Kathryn or our pilot back to normal—there is only a small window of time before the changes in them became irreversible and he had very little of their DNA left to work with. Believe me, you would not have liked what they became."

 

"And Malakier's Craft?" Zejahn asked. "How is it you did not know how it worked?"

 

"I was abandoned as a small child, Zejahn," Malakier said softly. The three young men looked at her in shock and sympathy. "The Craft is the only clue to my people I have—it is somehow programmed to react only to me. I have never seen another of my species and when I grew up, the woman who had looked after me helped me find the place in which I had been abandoned. We found the Craft there—it is my only clue to my past, to who my people might have been. My foster mother was killed almost three years ago and Kathryn and Chakotay have agreed to help me as much as they can. We were testing the propulsion system of the Craft today when Chakotay detected your distress call. As for how it works—I do not know. Perhaps it is a genetic compulsion in the same way as what was done to you by the Taresians, Ransarv. Once in it, I know how to make it move and apparently fire some type of weapon, but out of it, I have little memory except that it seemed right to do those things."

 

She smiled wanly at them. "I wish I could explain it better, but I can not and I wish I knew who I was, who my parents are or were. I wish I knew why I had been abandoned, if anyone ever meant to return for me. If Kathryn can unlock the secrets of my Craft, maybe I will be able to eventually find my way to my people—that is if they ever wanted me in the first place."

 

"Do not say that," Arndriz said quickly in distress, as Ransarv move to put his arm about her shoulder. "It sounds like you were too young to know what happened, but whatever it was, I am sure your people would want you and that someone meant to come back for you."

 

Chakotay thought that Zejahn was about to say something else, but an identical look from the twins silenced him as they helped Malakier clear away the dessert dishes before saying good night. Chakotay sat in the empty mess hall for a few moments longer. The young men would be staying in his quarters for the duration, while he would stay in Kathryn's quarters. They had made sure that they couldn't get into the computer system, but Zejahn was a clever young man and he had some idea of the implications of supra-warp—warp 10 travel—had maybe even grasped some inkling of what infra-warp travel might mean.

 

They would definitely have to keep an eye on their guests until they were safely off the ship—it would probably warrant travelling at warp 7.5 or 8 all the way back to Hazbraal. However, even this security breach was worth the glorious look in Kathryn's eyes, he thought as he made his way to engineering. She turned as he rode the lift down to the main deck and he saw the chagrin in her expression.

 

"Did you get them all tucked into bed?" she asked hugging him.

 

"Yes," he replied with a smile.

 

"Lord I'm sorry about that," she said regretfully. "It was just such a revelation, it caught me by surprise. I didn't even remember they were there until it was too late—the only thing I could do was get out of there."

 

"I know," he said, kissing her on the forehead.

 

"Sometimes, I wonder if I still have what it takes to be captain again, Chakotay," she said softly as she laid her head on his chest.

 

"Don't worry, you do," he assured her with another kiss.

 

She smiled into his eyes. "I've taken care of security though. Everything's been transferred to NE-102, including the entire warp 10 research. They will need our lock-out codes and voice authorisation to access anything other than level one in the main computer core as well." NE-102 was the shuttle _Sacajawea_ , while the _Phoenix_ was NE-101.

 

"Even Mala?" he asked softly.

 

"No," Kathryn replied. "There's no reason to restrict her access, I trust her. I don't think there will be a problem on that front."

 

"Young men can be persuasive," he commented.

 

"I know," she replied kissing him passionately. "But she'll be fine. It's me I'm worried about; it's going to be murder trying to keep my mind off it for the next few days."

 

****

 

Zejahn looked around the dim mess hall nervously as he slipped into the seat in front the computer console. He looked at the unfamiliar language of the console in confusion for a moment, before calling softly, "Computer on." His face was highlighted in the soft glow from the terminal. "Computer, show me files pertaining to warp 10 travel."

 

"Access denied," came the disembodied female voice in the darkness. "You are not authorised for those files. Unable to comply."

 

His alarm was evident as he jumped at the volume of the computer's voice. "Computer, lower the volume on responses to one quarter present levels." He thought for a few moments then ordered, "Computer, show me files pertaining to warp travel."

 

"Access denied. You are not authorised for those files. Unable to comply."

 

"Computer, give me access to the first level teaching files."

 

"Access denied. You are not authorised for those files. Unable to comply."

 

The young man looked at the console in frustration. "Computer, who is authorised for those files?" he asked wearily.

 

"Chakotay, Kathryn Janeway and Malakier are authorised for those files."

 

"Computer . . . is Malakier also authorised for files pertaining to warp 10 travel?" he asked hopefully.

 

"Affirmative."

 

"Computer, for what files am I authorised?" he asked curiously. The computer displayed a number of files on the screen—a series of unfathomable writing. "Computer, verbal list of files and highlight each," he ordered.

 

"Culinary arts, dramatic arts, literary arts, music, visual arts, visual and interactive entertainment, philosophy, religious practices—"

 

"Computer, end list," he spat in disgust. He sat again for a few minutes studying the screen before ordering, "Computer, give me access to files on literary arts."

 

As the list appeared, he was startled by a voice from behind him. "Zejahn, what are you doing here?" Arndriz whispered angrily as he and his brother made their way over to the console.

 

"I could not sleep, so I thought I would see what stories—" he began guiltily.

 

"Do not lie to us!" Ransarv hissed in disgust. "You were trying to break into their computer!"

 

"Do you have any idea what the implications of warp 10 travel are?" Zejahn asked excitedly. "We could go anywhere instantly!"

 

"And you heard what they said about what happened to those who used it—they mutated!" Arndriz reminded him.

 

"None of that matters!" Ransarv said implacably. "All that matters is that it would be dishonourable to steal from them—I can not believe that you would even consider trying. They saved our lives!"

 

"Do not be so naive, Ransarv," Zejahn returned angrily. "Think of what it would mean if we had this information, if we could make it work."

 

"How far did you get?" Arndriz asked.

 

Zejahn squirmed uncomfortably for a few moments. "Literary arts," he admitted sheepishly at last. Both his friends stared at him for a moment and began to giggle. "I was thinking of using the storage datastrip's link to try and break their language codes."

 

"You did not try it did you?" Arndriz asked in alarm.

 

"Of course I did not," Zejahn replied indignantly. "I am not an idiot—I could not be sure that it would not become corrupted from something in their files."

 

"Come on," Arndriz said laughing. "Let us get back to bed, you will not gain access tonight, but perhaps they will permit us to learn from them tomorrow."

 

"Malakier has access," Zejahn began slyly.

 

"No!" Ransarv said fiercely. "Do not even think of doing something so dishonourable as getting her to go against her people. She is too good for such tricks."

 

"I know," Zejahn admitted contritely. "It is just so tempting—they know so much!"

 

"Someone knows more than the great Zejahn?" Arndriz teased. "Come now, you have more brains than any of our teachers back home. Do you really want to win your prestige on the stolen work of someone else—even if they never return to this part of the galaxy and no one else would ever know? You would never know to what greatness you could have aspired."

 

"We have faith in you, Zejahn," Ransarv continued quietly. "A mind like yours was meant for great things—not for cheating. With what we bring back, all the data _you_ saved, I am sure that we will be able to get another ship to continue maybe even a better one like those new ones they are building on Tovera. You know now that warp 10 is no longer a theoretical impossibility, who knows what other theoretical impossibilities are truly possibilities. They say warp 10 was not safe, but who knows what could be done to make it safe."

 

"You would continue even after what happened with the Taresians?" Zejahn asked in surprise.

 

"Yes," Ransarv said; a little surprised himself. "I find that I truly like this. Maybe one day I would like to find a place somewhere and take a wife, but not now. Kathryn says that even if no cure could be found, as long as I take the medication, I will be fine—there will not be any more transformations. However, she is sending all the data and ideas she could come up with for restoring my genome and she feels confident that our doctors could do it. I even like my spots a little; they distinguish me now from Arndriz. I suppose that it was my strongest feeling back at Taresia—besides all the other things they made me feel. I felt special, unique for once. I was different from Arndriz and they were telling me that I was meant for greater things than he was—it was so seductive and insidious. Once away from them I realise that I did not want to stop being Arndriz's brother, we are of each other and have been from the moment we came into being. I do not want that special bond we share to be lost either."

 

"Computer off. All right you two," Zejahn said as he stood. "We will go to Tovera as soon as we can work our way there. They say that the new class of warp cores can sustain warp 9.9 for as long as four hours—perhaps we can get apprenticeships at the shipyards for a while. However, let us keep whatever we learn from these people to ourselves. If only we three know that warp 10 is a possibility that can be our edge. And what about this cloak thing Kathryn was talking about—it seems to be able to hide the ship from enemies. Do you think she would be willing to show us?"

 

"I do not know," Arndriz laughed. "But I intend to learn all I can about piloting and tactics from Chakotay."

 

"And I guess that leaves the beautiful Malakier to me," Ransarv said smugly and the other two groaned softly as they left the mess hall.

 

The door of Chakotay's room closed and the hall was silent for a few moments before the door to Malakier's quarters opened for a few seconds, and then closed again. She deactivated her camouflage suit, quickly peeled it off and climbed into bed naked. She lay contemplating the young men for a few moments, before pulling a pillow to her and closing her eyes.

 

****

 


	10. On the Road to Hope

Malakier tried not to think of the young men they had left behind on Hazbraal. They had found two ships willing to take them as far as Nekahn's lodge, from which they could work their way back to their home colony on Drosha Prime. The young men had certainly gained the respect of the older Mikhal Travellers on Hazbraal for the information they had imparted on the little explored volume of space around Taresia, while Ransarv's illness had leant credence to their story.

 

It had been a good three days with them on board, lively and fun to have them paying attention to her in that way. Their unspoken understanding that no relationship was possible for the few days they had spent on the _Phoenix_ —had just left them free to play with her without any expectations. They had laughed with her, held her, and touched her without intrusions of strong emotions or suggestions of sexuality. She grinned now as she remembered their teasing to learn more about the _Phoenix's_ systems and Kathryn's inventive ways of getting around Zejahn's probing questions—sometimes simply by not answering. Mala had neglected her own lessons almost completely and had they had more time together, she was not entirely sure she would have been able to leave them as easily as she had.

 

The _Phoenix_ had given the entire Taresian-Nasari sector a wide berth, and had detoured from their original path to avoid an area of subspace instability. The few traders they had passed in the last two weeks had had no information about _Voyager_. In all it seemed like another desolate area of space.

 

As soon as the Mikhal youths had left, Kathryn had excitedly got back to the intricacies of the Craft within the hour and had been working non-stop on the data ever since. Tonight she was at the cartographic table working on the maps—they were definitely of lower resolution, but still good enough to get a fairly accurate picture of the way ahead. It was how they had known to avoid the subspace instability two days before. They had been able to go back to cloaking that morning after passing a safe distance from the anomaly.

 

"Mala, would it be safe to take your attention away for a while?" Kathryn asked grimly from behind her. "Is there a place close by where we could safely stop?"

 

"There's a small moon in orbit around the gas giant in the system ahead," Mala answered in puzzlement. "I can be in orbit in fifteen minutes."

 

"Do it," Kathryn ordered quietly, and Mala brought them out of warp. As she moved towards the system using the impulse engines, she heard her friend call, "Janeway to Chakotay. Can you come to the bridge please?"

 

"I was just coming up with dinner," he replied cheerfully. "I'll be up in a minute. What kind of juice would you like?"

 

"It doesn't matter," Kathryn said worriedly. "Get up here as quickly as possible."

 

"Sounds serious," he said softly.

 

"It is," she returned. Mala heard her moving around next to science station as she concentrated on getting the _Phoenix_ into a stable orbit. A few minutes later, Chakotay entered with their dinners.

 

"What's wrong?" he asked in concern as he placed the dinner basket on floor near the anti-grav beds.

 

"I've finished the mapping of Mala's last run," she began softly, meeting their eyes in turn. "She went approximately one hundred and twenty-eight light years before she turned back. However, Byrilar's rig only has a long range capability of about twenty light years—but even so, it was good enough to pick this up—"

 

She zoomed in on a part of the three-dimensional cartographic display and enlarged it so that one system filled the entire display. It consisted of three worlds; all titanic spheres of cold, gleaming metal.

 

"Borg worlds," Chakotay whispered. Malakier heard the horror in his voice.

 

After a few moments, Kathryn continued, "It was on the edge of sensor range—approximately one hundred and forty-three light years from here. We've never seen Borg worlds before Chakotay—"

 

"Was it only this one system?" he asked quietly.

 

"Yes," Kathryn replied. "It took a little enhancement because it was so close to the end of her range, but..."

 

Her voice trailed off mid-sentence and she looked up at him.

 

Malakier whispered hoarsely, "I don't know what I was expecting Borg space to look like, but look at that system; somehow it's obscene—planets, even lifeless balls of rock are not supposed to look like that."

 

"I know Malakier," Chakotay answered softly, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I know." She could hear his effort to control his breathing, to maintain his calm as he held Kathryn's eyes. "What about the systems close to it?"

 

"They all seem a perfectly ordinary mix—not much different from the space we're in right now," Kathryn replied. She expanded the view to include more systems. "Of course, whether or not they're inhabited, or ever were, it's impossible to tell at this range." She gave a small, dry laugh as she said, "I suppose even Borg space must have a boundary."

 

He was thoughtful for a moment before answering their silent thought, "No, I don't suppose the Borg would stick to just assimilating one system." He was silent again for a few minutes. "Well come let's eat dinner," he said returning to the basket and beginning to unpack the containers.

 

Kathryn met Malakier's eyes, exchanging an indefinable look. "Dinner?" she asked incredulously.

 

He gave a hoarse laugh as he answered her, "Yes dinner Kathryn. We can't sit all night looking at that system—it's not going to tell us much, is it. We need more information and we won't get it tonight, so let's have dinner."

 

Malakier joined him and began to help herself, realising that below her vague unease and uncertainty, she was hungry. The Borg still held no terror for her yet, but mingled with the aroma of the food was their fear, for they had seen what these people could do. Kathryn accepted a plate reluctantly as she sat beside them on the deck, but Mala noticed that she took only a very small portion of salad, ignoring the soft tacos, rice, nachos and fixings.

 

"Come on Kathryn," Chakotay said softly. "You need to eat. Besides you're not looking at the benefits—"

 

"Benefits!" she shouted outraged. "What the hell do you mean—"

 

"You're not thinking love," he began, interrupting her tirade. He smiled and caressed her face as he continued softly. "Where do you think Tuvok and _Voyager_ would most likely be Kathryn?" Her eyes widened in comprehension. "Now I would much rather if the roadblock had not been the Borg, but what do you think our very _logical_ Vulcan friend would do?"

 

Kathryn took a deep breath and continued his train of thought. "He went around the Dark Ones' territory; he won't take _Voyager_ into Borg space unless he was absolutely sure they could get through without getting caught. We've made up about a year and five months on him, and we should be entering that region in approximately two months." Mala could see her suppressing her fear for her people, depending on this Tuvok to keep them safe. "He's going to be scouting around the area, looking for alternatives, but we won't know what direction until we get there."

 

"Exactly," Chakotay replied. "We do however have the advantage of Mala and the Craft. Hear me out—" he said quickly, forestalling her interruption. "Mala is right about us needing her reconnaissance flights, now more than ever. I don't want her to go into Borg space, not before we know more about them and the capabilities of the Craft. However, she can scout around the perimeter of their territory, map as far into it as her sensor array can manage so that we can get a better picture of what we're dealing with on both sides of the boarder."

 

"What Chakotay says makes sense Kathryn," Mala said quietly. "It will be curious to find out what these Borg's neighbours are like and why they have not been assimilated yet—if there is a depopulated zone around their territory as with the Dark Ones. Perhaps there are species there with defences against these Borg—"

 

"Or they just assimilated that system last month and haven't had time to move on yet," Kathryn returned pessimistically. She gave them a wan smile, "All right, you two have made your points, we'll take it one day at a time and not give up the ghost before it is time."

 

"Give up the ghost?" Malakier asked with a puzzled look.

 

"Admit defeat," Kathryn clarified with a wider smile. "Anyway, I do have some more to report on the Craft—"

 

"What?" Malakier asked impatiently.

 

Kathryn grinned as she rose and went back to the imaging table. "I've been modelling those microjumps you made," she said and the display changed to show the Craft as it popped in and out of space around the Taresian ship, firing on it once before moving to another position. "Now this is more than ten thousand times slower than the time it actually took, but it's really revealed a lot about the way the Craft moved during its longer runs. During these short hops, it doesn't create distortions the way it does at the beginning and end of a run; it's like it semi-submerges just beneath the surface of space itself, but not quite into subspace. To use the water analogy, it's swimming sort of half in half out of the water and pops its head up to shoot not rocks, but jets of water—or in our case directed bolts of subspace plasma at the target."

 

Both looked at her astonishment as she continued. "However, it's more than that just a submarine—if warp ships travel through space on the crest of a subspace wave created by the warp engines, and the Borg travel via transwarp conduits which are like tunnels through subspace, the Craft submerges itself into the space-subspace barrier itself! In a way it's like phasing, but it doesn't involve manipulating the space-time continuum, but bringing the Craft itself into phase with the resonance frequency of the space-subspace barrier. That's why I said it's not supra-warp based system manipulating space-time so that it passes through all points simultaneously, but a very counter-intuitive _infra-warp_ system because it only involves the barrier between space and subspace and that's why real time elapses."

 

Kathryn grinned at their flabbergasted expressions as she continued, "Everyone thinks of space and subspace—but what about the barrier between the two—it's neither space nor subspace exactly. If that which moves beyond space and subspace limits is supra-warp—then what exists between the limits of space and subspace is infra-warp. Both transwarp and warp technologies involve massive traumas to space and subspace, tearing through to make holes and tunnels or bending and folding into unnatural configurations then having it sort of snap back in order to bring two points of n-space closer together. The subspace distortions made by the Craft however aren't nearly so traumatic, which is why I had so much trouble with them. They're the result of the Craft sort of resonating to bring itself, and the large resonance field-bubble it creates, into phase with the space-subspace barrier—with infra-warp space. Then, it simply is propelled along by the kinetic forces created between space and subspace—and because the two points you're interested in are already closer together than they are in n-space, it's a hell of a lot faster."

 

"What kind of kinetic forces—" Chakotay stopped short and looked at her strangely. "Wait, it creates a resonance _field-bubble_?" he asked in a strangled voice.

 

Kathryn grinned at him with twinkling eyes. "I was wondering if you'd notice that," she replied in an amused voice. "Remember when we wondered why we found no excessive radiation on the hull and what little it did have it absorbed into itself quickly? Well, that's why."

 

"I do not understand," Mala said in confusion.

 

Kathryn looked perplexed for a few moments, and then speared an olive from the bowl with a toothpick. "Let's say this olive was the craft and the air above this bowl of melted cheese is space itself, while the cheese is subspace—notice how the cheese forms a thin skin between space and subspace. Now if you threw the olive into the cheese, you would make a huge tear in the barrier, have splatters of cheese and all sorts of disturbances and distortions—that's what a Borg transwarp conduit would do. Eventually, subspace and space—or the cheese in conjunction with the air heals the skin. But you can imagine now that the passage of the olive forms a sort of solid tunnel that hadn't existed before from point A, just above the bowl of cheese to point B, which in this example would be just on the other side of the bottom of the bowl. That tunnel leaves the cheese in a very unnatural configuration. But if you do as the Craft does—it gently sort of pushes against the barrier and vibrates against it until they're both at the same resonant frequency—then you can simply sink beneath the surface," she said. She brought the olive on the end of the toothpick up against the surface of the cheese creating a gentle depression, and then wiggled it back and forth to break the surface tension before it sank.

 

"Now, if you imagine that the olive has the ability to create a large bubble of air around itself before it sinks beneath the surface of the cheese, you have basically what the Craft does. There's little actual interaction between the Craft and subspace because of this bubble.

 

"It doesn't fully submerge into subspace, but remains close enough to the barrier so that the instruments can still navigate normal space. Now the universe is expanding outwards in all directions. Therefore, just below the surface of the space-subspace barrier, because of the curvature of space-time, the distance between two points is shorter than the distance between co-responding points above the surface in n-space. I'm still not sure about the actual movement once it's within infra-warp space, but once it reaches its intended destination, it simply reverses the process. It simply resonates with the "surface" of normal space where it wants to emerge.

 

"Again, there is little trauma because you're not punching out of subspace explosively as the olive would do if it could be thrown through the bowl. The resonance field-bubble still creates subspace distortions, but you must remember that the space-subspace barrier is very dynamic, and you've caused a whole lot less trauma than simply punching your way through."

 

"That's why I've never experienced any trauma while in it," Malakier said in comprehension. "Not so much as a bump and we always seem to know where we are."

 

"Exactly!" Kathryn replied with pride. "Now what would happen if something with the same resonance frequency as the Craft was caught inside the field-bubble with it as it went through the barrier?"

 

"That object would be carried along with it!" Mala said catching her excitement. "You could take a ship in with my Craft!"

 

"That's what Byrilar meant to do," Kathryn replied softly as she caressed Mala's face. "I figured it out this afternoon and meant to surprise you guys, but I guess we all got a surprise when I saw that system. Anyway, that was why Byrilar needed those neutrino collectors, deflectors—other things and a warp core capable of being used to generate not a warp field, but a resonance field that I've called a Byrilar field. It is a field that would allow us to mimic the Craft's resonance frequency—and keep us from being crushed when we become cocoon in the interface between space and subspace. We can duplicate with technology what the Craft does naturally. Maybe even in time, with more study, we may learn how to build a infra-warp drive, but for now, I think we might just be able to hitchhike a ride with your Craft."

 

Chakotay hugged Kathryn tightly and then pulled Mala into their embrace. "I guess I can live with just being along for the ride," he quipped as they all laughed with sheer excitement.

 

"When can we try it?" Malakier asked as they broke the embrace.

 

"Slow down," Kathryn replied, the amusement for young woman's enthusiasm dancing in her eyes. "I just figured it out this afternoon—theoretically it's a possibility, but practically, there is still a lot of research and not to mention designing to do. Byrilar's work has given us an excellent starting point, but there's still way too much to be done before we can even begin to think about testing anything. If we had _Voyager's_ science and engineering departments working on it, a shuttle prototype could theoretically be ready in about three months. In fact, it would probably take less time based on Byrilar's work on your small ship, but with just the three of us, even a ship this size would take at least two years, maybe more. There are also a host of other problems that have to be worked out that she couldn't have seen based on the resolution of your instruments at the time. However, you can rest assured that I am going to be working on this—it's my first priority after the ship's systems."

 

"Do you have any idea why the Craft's travel is so much faster than warp?" Malakier asked curiously as they continued the meal.

 

Kathryn nodded as she finished her soft taco and hastily drank some juice before answering. "Unlike cheese, the space-subspace barrier has a dynamic structure to it. But it depends on among other things, subspace plasma flow dynamics, neutrino-antineutrino streams, subspace particle interactions and the quantum energy that forms a sort of network of infra-warp currents.

 

"I think the Craft is using is the interaction between the plasma dynamics of subspace itself and the infra-warp currents. Each current has its own direction to maintain the structure of the barrier and as I said it's dynamic, so all the currents don't go in the same direction.

 

"One of the major components that set up the direction of each current close to the space-subspace barrier is the nature of the plasma. My major problem was that although there were hours of data, in terms of distance travelled, one to two hundred light years was too short, she didn't switch directions or currents that often—sometimes only once, when she was ready to return—so the neutrino surging didn't make sense to me. My other problem was that I just didn't think of the space-subspace barrier—of infra-warp space. I thought she was going into subspace, tunnelling somehow, but the plasma dynamics—everything I could possibly think of to explain it, just made absolutely no sense for that to be occurring."

 

"That's why you said it was so simple no one would ever have thought of it," Chakotay said chuckling.

 

"Exactly," Kathryn replied, returning his laughter. "Every last system I've ever seen for space travel, be it warp drives, transwarp conduits, warp 10, hyperspace tunnelling, or even artificial wormholes, all involve major assaults on the fabric of space itself. I think it's simply because we did not develop in space. But this is a creature of space—this is its natural habitat."

 

"I wonder how they came to be involved with my species," Malakier said softly. "Why would it give up the freedom of space to be here on this ship with me—to have been entombed in a womb of rock for over thirty years waiting for me? Is it some sort of slave to me?" she asked, clearly troubled by the thought.

 

"No Malakier," Kathryn said gently. "I don't think it's a slave. Think of how you feel when you're together—you said you feel whole, complete, that you are one. There is no Malakier and the Craft, there is just the one, and you're aware of who you are, what you can do and how to do it—you are aware of just being. Perhaps there are an abundance of them near the planet where your people evolved. People have learned a great many things simply by observing creatures in their natural environment—our first aviators looked at the wings of great birds, people who built the first submarines looked at how aquatic animals dealt with buoyancy problems. Your people may have started out in spaceships like ours and by observing this space-dwelling species to learn more about how they travelled, come up with the idea of travelling within them. The Craft is clearly intelligent, you have rather ill-defined mental abilities—the only way your ancestors and those of the Craft might have had of understanding each other may have been direct telepathic contact."

 

Chakotay continued thoughtfully, "In any case, Mala, whatever the relationship between your two species might have started out as it looks like it's become one of mutual symbiosis. It may have given you a lot, but have you ever considered what you do for it, what you bring to the relationship?"

 

"I brought it into existence. I am its dreamer," Malakier replied and looked at them in confusion, uncertain why she'd just said what she did.

 

"What do you mean by that?" Chakotay asked taking her hand and meeting Kathryn's eyes. He saw his surprise mirrored in them.

 

"I help it to understand the nature of being. I give it my dreams—" she broke off again in confusion. "Or I am supposed to. We . . . we are one. We understand the whole that is more than can be perceived separately. We understand dreams beyond the substance of the mind and the protection of the body. We bring us closer to understanding the nature of being. We are one." For a moment, Malakier almost did not recognise her own voice.

 

"Can you explain any better, Mala?" Kathryn asked softly. "How do you know this?"

 

"I do not know," she replied, tears welling up in the turmoil she felt. "I do not know where those words come from—I just know it is the answer to Chakotay's question."

 

Kathryn drew her into a protective hug, and gently stroked her back. "It's all right. I think you're beginning to understand yourself and your Craft in your own special way. Don't be frightened if you're not able to articulate it to us—it's your understanding that's important, not being able to explain it in a way we can understand."

 

"Its presence is growing stronger within me," she confessed as they broke their embrace.

 

"Does it frighten you?" Chakotay asked in concern.

 

"No," she whispered looking down at her hands. "Its presence does not frighten me, but I am afraid of what I will see in it and what it will see in me—that it will know the things I have done and it will not want me anymore. Then I will lose the comfort it brings—sometimes I feel so selfish because I am glad that I do not have to share it with anyone, even you," she said softly.

 

Chakotay chuckled as he lifted her chin. "You don't have to feel bad about that Malakier, you're not being selfish, believe me, and I don't think you have to worry about it leaving you, I think you're far too important to each other. You are its dreamer and you give its life meaning—a purpose—perhaps when you're together you help it to understand the nature of its existence, the abstract things that are of the mind and consciousness and reality. You're both learning from each other in a unique partnership where you both benefit. Even the mistakes you made when you were apart may bring understanding to something later."

 

"You're seeking what everyone does each day of their existence, understanding of that existence, love and comfort," Kathryn continued, her arm still around the young woman's shoulders. "These are all private things and you don't have to feel guilty or selfish because you don't want to share that bond. There are many bonds a person can share with another person that they cannot open to anyone else and that's a wonderful, natural thing. Cherish it."

 

"I will," Malakier replied.

 

****

 

It had been like the first time that they'd made love; Kathryn had been wild and desperate, straining to connect. Tears of joy mingled with sorrow and pain and hope—and always that tiny fear lingered in him that she would drown him, take him down into the deepest chasm and forget to surface, forget to breathe for each other.

 

She lay still now in his arms, his body spooned to hers, sleeping peacefully. Chakotay smiled in the darkness—in most relationships he'd been in, it had been foreplay, then sex, and exhausting sleep. With Kathryn, he never knew quite what order things were going to be in. Tonight had been sex, then foreplay—or rather _afterplay_ , which took the form of a long, delicious massage she had given him, followed by slow, passionate, languorous lovemaking. Pure joy.

 

And still, there was the spectre of the Borg—pushed far into the distance, but none the less present. Hope was in the foreground. Hope that they would find _Voyager_ and hope for this new understanding of Malakier's Craft. He wondered when the young woman would decide on a name for it. Malakier had decided that evening that it should have a name like all beings, but she that she needed to take her time selecting one. He and Kathryn would have to sit down soon and discuss the implications of the bond between Mala and her Craft, she was going to be asking questions and they had no idea what to tell her. So far they had been going on instinct and experience, but there were things that instincts and experience couldn't help with—things that could hurt her if they weren't careful, although, there were always going to be things that would hurt her no matter how careful they were.

 

Kathryn turned in his arms, nuzzled her face into his chest and threw one leg over his hip. He kissed her gently on the forehead and settled her more comfortably against him. Not for the first time, he wondered how they would continue their relationship on _Voyager_ —if it would interfere with their command relationship. They hadn't talked about it and to tell the truth, he didn't want to.

 

****

 


	11. When Courage Fails

Chakotay shut the tricorder and looked up. "You're right, these are excellent quality isolinear relays, Merl," he said enthusiastically to the well-dressed merchant, which from the diversity of the wares in his shop was probably more of a fence than a legitimate businessman. "How much for a decad?"

 

The alien looked at him shrewdly from beneath a low hooded brow. "A hundred and fifty bekrash," he replied in a harsh, guttural voice.

 

"I don't know," Chakotay waffled as he looked down at the Federation standard relay in his hand. "You don't have to please me, it's my ship's Mistress who must approve—and she is hard to please. I will have to fetch her. Do you know where they came from? She will demand to know that."

 

"I brought them from a trader named Berk," he replied after a few moments. "He is registered with the trade ministry here—you can check him out. I would not have taken them from him, except he had a run in with a plasma storm and needed money quickly to repair his ship." Merl leaned across his counter conspiratorially, "He claimed to have brought them on Quaquen from a group of aliens in a ship from the other side of the galaxy. Personally I think he was just trying to get a better price, but it was to my good fortune they were of such excellent quality."

 

"If you will excuse me a moment," Chakotay said politely as if unconcerned with the story. "My employer is across the way purchasing food supplies, and do not mention that the person you bought them from had a damaged ship or she will suspect damaged goods no matter how much I assure her."

 

"Understood," the merchant said understandingly.

 

Chakotay hurried across the square to where Malakier was looking over the vendor's supply of vegetables. He fought hard to keep his poker face in place—this was the first clue to _Voyager's_ whereabouts they'd had in nearly four months since they'd left the Mikhal Travellers. Borg space had turned out to be vaster than they had imagined—thousands of solar systems across untold light years. Malakier looked at him imperiously as he caught her attention, playing the role of ship's captain to the hilt.

 

"Yes, what is it you want?" she asked forcefully.

 

"If you please Mistress, I've found the isolinear relays we need," he said respectfully. "A decad will cost one hundred and fifty bekrash."

 

She studied at him coolly, and strode off ahead of him. "The produce here is not to my liking," she proclaimed. "I presume that the relays are of good quality—not like the others?"

 

 _Let's not overdo it, Mala_ , he mentally chided. "They are of good quality, Mistress," he replied.

 

She crossed quickly to the merchant's shop and swept past the other customers to speak directly to the proprietor. "You have isolinear relays to sell?" she demanded. Merl flicked a glance at Chakotay who stood behind her wearing a look of resignation, before beginning his spiel about how he acquired them—carefully editing out the part about the trader's damaged ship. "I will give you one hundred and twenty-five bekrash for the decad," she said firmly as he finished his tale.

 

"Lady, the price is one hundred and fifty," Merl returned evenly.

 

"I will not buy goods of dubious quality and origin," she said implacably, turning away.

 

Chakotay met Merl's eyes and shrugged with a wry smile on his lips. "One hundred and thirty-five," Merl called.

 

Malakier stood in the threshold of the shop with her back to him. "One hundred and thirty," she returned.

 

"Accepted—"

 

"Chakotay pay the man and do not be long," she ordered as she swept out.

 

"You were in earnest about that female," Merl said to Chakotay as he counted out a sheaf of bills and handed them to him.

 

"You don't know the half of it," Chakotay replied wearily. "She is trying to make a name for herself among her people by striking out in this direction—me, I just need enough to get back to my family."

 

"Well understood Chakotay," Merl commiserated. "I was a merchant spacer myself for years before I retired here."

 

"What about the strange stories I hear about half organic, half machine species that have invaded the neighbouring sectors," he asked curiously. "Has anyone tried selling to them?"

 

"If your lady wants to try, my advice is to mutiny," Merl said in a warning voice. "No one who goes into their territory has ever left it. In fact, most merchants in this sector are thinking about moving elsewhere—maybe the Cachaiot sector or even as far as Avirtu."

 

"Thanks," Chakotay said shouldering the box. "I'll keep your advice in mind—I want to be able to return to my wife and sons. Good day, Merl."

 

"Good day, Chakotay."

 

As he walked back to the shuttle, he could feel his elation in the box of relays they really didn't need. Voyager was within reach—Kathryn would finally have her ship back and what would he have? They still hadn't talked about what would happen once they were back in the Command structure, when she was Captain again. He smiled at Malakier as they began the pre-flight check and chatted as they rose up out of the atmosphere to rendezvous with the _Phoenix_. He docked automatically and followed Malakier back to the bridge, leaving the box of relays where they were—they had got what they had come for, another clue to Voyager's path.

 

"Quaquen is in the Cachaiot sector, fifteen light years from here," Kathryn said as they entered the bridge. "We can be there in four days at warp 7.5. We're cleared to leave orbit."

 

"Well the Cachaiot sector it is," Chakotay said cheerfully as he slid into the helm seat.

 

"The ministry agent said Berk came here from Cachaiot three and a half months ago," Malakier reported. "Before that he was in Disyan about five months ago and Avirtu nine months ago. He started back on his return leg through the Yagny sector a month ago after the completion of repairs to his ship. We were extremely lucky you detected the relays installed on the orbital station, Kathryn."

 

"Federation replicator signatures—gotta love 'em," Kathryn said laughing. "Hopefully, _Voyager_ didn't leave Quaquen a long time ago and they sold the relays directly to Mr. Berk."

 

"We're clear of the planet, going to full impulse," Chakotay announced. "Good acting, Mala."

 

"Why thank you," she quipped laughing merrily.

 

****

 

"You should be headed off to bed, Kathryn," Chakotay said quietly from the helm. "We'll be putting in at Quaquen in sixteen hours, you need your sleep."

 

"I know," she said coming to sit down next to him at tactical. "I wanted to talk to you first though, I wanted to ask you something," she said quietly.

 

"What is it?" he asked turning his head to her, after checking the computer update on their course.

 

"Do you want to marry me, Chakotay?" she blurted out. He gaped at her in shock and after a few minutes she said uncomfortably, "Will you say something? I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way." She looked directly ahead at the starfield as if to draw some answers from it. "It's just that there's so much that we need to talk about but haven't. I meant to talk to you after dinner, but courage failed I guess. Every day it seems like finding _Voyager_ comes closer to a reality and the Captain and Commander must come to the fore. I need to know how you feel about me—I can't . . ."

 

Her voice trailed off and she was silent again for a few moments as she looked desperately for the right words. "I can't go back to the way things were before," she whispered.

 

"I don't want to go back to the way things were before on _Voyager_ —I couldn't," he replied softly, taking her hands in his. "I must admit that it's been bothering me too. I need you and yes I do want to marry you. I have almost from the moment I met you."

 

Kathryn felt her heart lurch as he came around the helm and went down on one knee; she felt the insane urge to giggle. He drew a small box from his pocket and the tears welled up as her chest constricted.

 

"I must admit that I've been carrying this around for a while now," he said smiling into her eyes. "But as you put it, courage failed."

 

He opened the small box and took the ring out. Mounted on a delicate filigree band woven from gold and platinum, was a small, brilliant diamond surrounded by four small rubies.

 

He took her hand and the ring hovered over her fingers as he asked, "Kathryn Janeway, will you marry me?"

 

"Yes," she whispered hoarsely as he slipped it on, completely overcome with emotion. She threw her arms around him and kissed him passionately. After a few minutes of gazing into each other's eyes, she said, "I guess you'd better get back to the helm."

 

"Aye, aye," he replied with a charming grin.

 

As he sat down again at the helm and checked the computer, she curled up in the chair beside him. "I just want to stay for a little while," she whispered leaning her head against his shoulder, and looking down at her ring.

 

"I have no problem with that," he said smiling as he took her hand again in his. "I must say it looks a lot better on your finger than in the box," he chuckled admiringly. "And it will be good to be back in Mala's good graces again."

 

"Malakier knows?" Kathryn asked in astonishment.

 

He grinned even wider as he quipped, "Who do you think made the ring? For the last two weeks, every time I passed her, she'd mutter "cowardly human" and shoot me black looks because she noticed that I hadn't given you the ring yet."

 

"So that's what it was about," Kathryn laughed. "I thought you two had had a fight."

 

"Oh, it very nearly came to blows," he replied laughing also. "Jewellery making—along with jewellery theft were among her cornucopia of talents we never got around to discussing. I chose the diamond and the ring design—using both gold and platinum was her idea and the rubies were her gift," he finished softly.

 

"I'll have to thank her in the morning," Kathryn replied, laying her head against his shoulder again. She couldn't help smiling and stealing glance at her hand, she felt so giddy with happiness.

 

****

 


	12. Resolution: Return from the Ashes

"That's odd."

 

"What is odd, Mr. Ayala?" Captain Tuvok asked his tactical officer in his usual precise, uninflected tone.

 

"Captain, there's a ship closing fast at warp 9.3; it just came out of nowhere sir," Ayala reported. "And it's Talaxian."

 

"Talaxian?" Paris gave a low whistle from the helm much to Tuvok's annoyance. However, he did notice a beneficial effect of Mr. Paris' non-regulation comments in reducing the tension on the bridge.

 

"It's a Reelixia Class cargo ship, Captain," Ayala continued. "It will be in communications range in approximately ten minutes."

 

"Mr. Neelix to the bridge," Tuvok ordered.

 

"Aye Captain," came Neelix's voice—with an absurdly chipper note, Tuvok thought.

 

"Mr. Kim, please hail Governor Wikarn."

 

"Aye Captain," Kim replied. "I have her now."

 

"On screen."

 

"Captain Tuvok, our escorts tell me that we have an unidentified ship closing quickly," the tall, crested reptiloid female said in a clearly concerned voice. Tuvok had agreed to play escort and defender for the Arekare—a species they'd recently met and who, according to all reports, were immune to Borg assimilation. The Arekare had in turn promised to give the Doctor their secret once _Voyager_ delivered the last of the survivors to their hidden colony world.

 

"Yes Governor," Tuvok replied. "We are familiar with this type of ship and the species it belongs to; with your permission we will intercept it and attempt to ascertain its intentions."

 

"As you wish Captain Tuvok," she said with a polite bow before closing communications.

 

"Lieutenant Paris, take us on an intercept course, warp 7."

 

"Aye Captain, warp 7," Paris confirmed as Neelix entered the bridge. The ship left the slow moving Arekare colony convoy behind as it sped towards their pursuer.

 

"Mr. Neelix," Tuvok began. "It appears that there is a Reelixia class cargo ship pursuing us at warp 9.3."

 

"What?" Neelix's voice came out in a strangled shout. "What's it doing all the way out here? That class of ship never went faster than warp 8—warp 8.5 if they didn't care too much about a warp core breach."

 

"None the less, it is travelling at warp 9.3," Tuvok replied implacably.

 

"Captain, we're in communication's range," Kim reported.

 

"Open a channel," the Captain ordered then turned to face the forward viewscreen. "This is Captain Tuvok of the Federation Starship _Voyager_ to unidentified Talaxian ship, please acknowledge."

 

The screen flickered to life to show an empty bridge except for a gold-skinned humanoid female at the helm. Behind him Tuvok heard Neelix's sharp intake of breath. "This is Malakier, on commission out of the Talaxian colony of Teerixi. I have business with your Mr. Neelix," she replied in a deadly tone of voice.

 

Tuvok turned and was surprised to find a Neelix shaking with fear, but trying to stand his ground. "May I ask what business you have with my crewman, Mr. Neelix."

 

The alien woman ignored him and focused her attention on the terrified Talaxian. "Mr. Neelix, do you know who I am?"

 

Neelix licked his dry lips as he answered, "Yes Lady, you are Malakier of the Poirolton Mercenaries on Teerixi."

 

The woman smiled almost benignly as _Voyager's_ bridge crew looked in shock from Neelix to the viewscreen. "Excellent Neelix," she praised. "I have accepted a commission to find you."

 

"May I ask what it is in regards to Lady Malakier?" Neelix asked softly, his voice quivering just a bit.

 

"It is in regards to a commission you once undertook and left unfinished," Malakier answered.

 

"I haven't done anything to warrant your attention, Lady. Who hired you?" he asked in confusion.

 

Two figures dressed in black bodysuits came into existence behind Malakier, removing their glasses and pulling back their hoods. "We did," Kathryn Janeway answered with a smile as Neelix crashed to the floor. "Neelix!" she called in concern.

 

"Captain?" Paris and Kim shouted together. "Commander Chakotay?"

 

"The same," Chakotay answered with a grin. "Mr. Paris, close your mouth, you're not catching flies," he laughed as Kim moved to help Neelix to the first officer's chair.

 

"Hello, Captain Tuvok," Kathryn called gently. "It's good to see you again."

 

"It is good to see you again as well, Captain Janeway," Tuvok replied formally. Questions raced through his mind as he fought to control and put them in order. "You and the Commander are in good health?"

 

"Excellent health as far as I can tell Tuvok," Janeway answered. "However, only the Doctor can be sure that the concoction I cooked up really worked. I suggest you have him stand by to beam us into a containment field while he makes sure we're free of the virus."

 

"That will not be necessary," Tuvok replied as both Kes and Torres burst from the turbolift at the same time. "The Doctor is equipped now with a mobile holographic emitter and can be transported to your ship."

 

"Right," she answered in surprise. "The Mikhal Travellers said he had one. You'll have to explain how that is possible."

 

"Captain? Chakotay?" Torres exploded in disbelief as Kes went over to Neelix's side in concern. "How did you get here?"

 

"By the grace of God, B'Elanna," Janeway answered.

 

"And the seat of our pants," Chakotay finished. "How are you doing, B'Elanna?"

 

"Fine," she answered then frowned. "No, not fine!" she shouted, angry and happy at the same time. "When you get back here I'm going to kill you, Chakotay! Oh hell!" she said fiercely wiping the tears from her eyes.

 

"It's good to see you too, Torres," he replied softly.

 

****

 

Standing at the top of Phoenix's landing ramp, Kathryn reached for Chakotay's hand and clasped it firmly as the hatch opened into the shuttle bay into which they'd just barely manoeuvred their little ship.

 

All the senior officers were crammed into the shuttle bay, and there was a sea of faces beyond them. A great cheer went up and Kathryn felt her heart constrict in her chest as they descended to greet Tuvok.

 

"Tuvok," she croaked in a hoarse whisper and pulled him into a brief, but none-the-less heart-felt hug.

 

"It is good to have you back, Captain," he replied solemnly.

 

B'Elanna was less restrained in her greeting of Chakotay. She gave a curdling Klingon yell as he caught her up and twirled her around—her legs flying.

 

Laughter and tears greeted them as they moved from person to person. Harry held Kathryn tightly, tears flowing unashamedly and she stroked his back for a long moment; her naive ensign had done a lot of growing up.

 

Paris' ready grin was as roguish as ever as he pulled her into his arms, but there was a maturity in his face now that Kathryn was heartened to see. Tom Paris the Rogue was still a rogue in many ways, but he was a man in many others and she was so glad.

 

And Kes—oh, her dear little pixie had grown into womanhood and she had missed it. Kathryn's tears flowed again as she held on to the beautiful young woman for dear life. As they pulled back from each other, Kathryn reached up to stroke the still delicate face. But the maturity and wisdom in Kes' eyes told her that they were no longer teacher and pupil, mother and daughter-surrogate, but equals and Kathryn dearly hoped, good friends.

 

Torres' fierce, uninhibited embrace was unexpected to say the least and nearly knocked the wind out of Kathryn, but she laughed and held B'Elanna tightly. To her utter surprise, she heard the younger woman mutter, "Oh, damn these hormones," and giving a loud "whoop" herself, pulled B'Elanna into another tight hug.

 

Crewmembers surged to touch them, Neelix was in tears and Chakotay carried little Naomi, who was not so little anymore in his arms.

 

Tears and laughter; they were finally home.

 

"May I enquire how you managed to catch up to us?" Tuvok asked.

 

"Yes, Reelixia class ships only go warp 8.5," Neelix said in mild confusion.

 

"A Reelixia class cargo ship with a warp core assembly meant for a Dexin class battlecruiser will go warp 9.4," Malakier answered with a smile.

 

Chakotay laughed, "A good guide, our ingenuity and Lady Luck played very big roles, Tuvok." Everyone chuckled softly, not taking their eyes off their Captain and Commander.

 

"A very good guide," Kathryn said and held her hand out to Malakier. "Everyone, allow us to introduce our friend, Malakier, without whom we would never have made it this far. Mala, this is Captain Tuvok."

 

Again there was another round of greetings as first Kes pulled Malakier into a close hug, and the others following suit, enthusiastically welcoming a new member into _Voyager's_ family.

 

Chakotay looked down into Kathryn's shining eyes. "Welcome home, my love," he whispered.

 

"Welcome home, my love," she replied and went up on her toes, put her arms around him and kissed him.

 

There was utter silence for a moment as every eye was riveted on them, and then pandemonium broke out as _Voyager's_ crew cheered.

 

The End


End file.
